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I'm so sorry for the wait for this chapter...I was swamped with school. I promise to have the next chapter up sooner. This is the longest chapter I have ever written! I hope you like it. Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers :) I've posted replies for all of my reviews at the end. Now with no further ado...

Chapter 2: The Price of Duality

"I for one trust Albus's judgment. Severus has obviously told Albus his story, we shouldn't expect him to divulge this information to everyone—especially after we treated him like an outsider, like he was an unworthy informant and not a member of the Order," spoke Remus, though his voice wavered slightly, almost as if he was scared to voice his opinion.

Dumbledore gave a small smile, looking at Remus with newfound respect.

"Remus is right," roared Moody. "Snape has told you his story, Albus. You can relay his concoction and we can decide his worthiness. Better yet, put the memory of his confession in a pensieve and let us see for ourselves."

A few of the Order members nodded their heads in agreement.

"That is not what I meant, Alastor. We are not going to win this war if we turn on our own people," said Remus, exasperated, his timidity replaced with disgust.

"Why are you defending him?" asked Fred, amazed.

"He's the reason you left Hogwarts. He did tell his house your, um, secret," continued George.

Remus was silent for a moment, trying to formulate his thoughts.

"See, he betrayed Remus's trust. Who's to say he won't do it again," exclaimed Moody.

"Enough," demanded Dumbledore, pushing his chair back and standing up.

Everyone turned their heads toward the enraged Headmaster.

"I refuse to sit here and listen to this. All you are doing in going around in circles. I will not tell you anything that he has told in my confidence but I will tell you this. Above all, I trust him because he trusts me. Trust begets trust, Alastor. If I were to disclose his affirmations, we will make a traitor of him."

He looked Moody in the eyes, daring him to argue. For once, Moody was silent, realizing the futility of continuing to discuss the issue at that moment given Dumbledore's current state.

"Molly, I thank you for the excellent meal. I will return tomorrow evening. Good day," said Dumbledore, deciding to go find his Potions Master.

xxxx

Snape found himself in his bathroom, once again rummaging through his potions cabinet. His fingers landed on a thin vial, which held a dark green liquid. He held it tightly in his fist and closed his eyes. Images of the deformed Moody ran through his mind, soon morphing into a younger, less disfigured version of the ex-Auror.

His eyes flew open and his hands began shaking. "Dammit," cursed Snape as he pressed his hand firmly against the counter, trying to stop the shaking.

Taking a deep breath, he took control of his body and strode into his kitchen. His hands began to tremble again as he mixed in the content of the vial with a glass of pumpkin juice. Pain was slowly coursing through his body.

He knew he should see a healer about his injuries, but he didn't—he never did. What was he going to say? "Yes, my master, the Dark Lord punished me for disappointing him. I wouldn't tell him how to get into Hogwarts, you see." He let out a bitter laugh just imagining the healer's look of horror.

Stirring the solution, he gave it a disgusted look. He hated pumpkin juice but it was the only thing with a strong enough taste short of alcohol. As much as he would have loved to drown himself in alcohol, he refused to lose control of his calculating mind—the one thing that he could control, for now at least.

He took the drink into the plain living room and sat on the couch, placing the glass on the coffee table. He stared at it, repulsively, not because of its taste but because of the weakness that it represented. Why did his confrontation with the Order affect him so badly? He didn't care for their trust. He sighed; deep down, he knew that was exactly what was bothering him.

Pain, rushing into his head jolted him out of his thoughts and he reflexively shut his eyes to displace the pain. Instantly, his head was swarmed with images…Moody, Dumbledore, himself, Dementors. This was his plight of serving two masters—physically abused by one and emotionally abused by the other.

The pain was becoming too intense. He knew that he would pass out at any minute. He desperately grabbed for the glass, trying to drink its substance before the darkness consumed him.

More pain jerked through his chest and his body involuntarily pulled him into unconsciousness. The glass fell out of his hand and crashed to the floor, spilling out the precious liquid as his body collapsed into the couch, his mind lost in his memories, his nightmares…

November 5, 1981

There was a faint knocking at the door. 21-year-old Snape trudged over to the entrance. Sweat plastered his black hair to his pale skin. He had dark circles under his eyes and his large nose was even more prominent against his gaunt features.

Opening the door, he was greeted by the tired headmaster of Hogwarts. The older man took one look at his spy and sighed.

"The names you gave were extremely valuable, Severus. They will be put on trial in the coming days," started Dumbledore, without so much as a greeting.

Snape nodded, feeling no real satisfaction in the capture of his former colleagues. He had failed in protecting Potter. As much as he hated Potter, he never repaid his debt. Anyway, he would probably receive the same fate as the Death Eaters he had named.

"We have to discuss your future, Severus," said Dumbledore, gently.

Snape stared at him in disbelief. There was no way the headmaster had penetrated his mind and yet he knew exactly what Snape was thinking.

"Inevitably, one of your former peers will disclose your name in an attempt to avoid Azkaban."

Snape shrugged, looking at Dumbledore, impassively. What was he to expect. He had betrayed them first, even if they didn't know it.

"No one knows you have been my spy for the last two years, so we have two options; wait until you are named by a Death Eater or go forward beforehand and present your case to the ministry. Either way, I will make sure you will not end up in Azkaban."

Snape continued to sit, unresponsively. Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on his knee but Snape pulled away, instinctively and walked towards a window, looking out into the clear blue sky, the sun shinning light into the room, mocking the darkness he felt.

"Severus, my boy, you must make an effort. Think of your sister, she depends on you."

Snape shut his eyes and his body tensed. How could he be so selfish? Dumbledore was right; Seralina had no one but him.

Dumbledore smiled. Snape wasn't totally lost; he was able to elicit some emotion in him.

"Your safety will be jeopardized after you become a known spy—not all the Death Eaters will end up in Azkaban," continued Dumbledore.

"I can take care of myself," shot Snape, turning to face the headmaster.

"I do not doubt your skill with a wand, Severus but not everything is under your control. I have a proposal."

"Yes?"

"My Potions Master has decided to retire and move to Australia with his wife. I'm in dire need of a professor."

Snape shook his head at the absurdity in Dumbledore's suggestion.

"You had the highest NEWTS results of your class in potions. You've worked in an experimental potions laboratory for the last three years and have worked yourself up to assistant director of the lab. You are more than qualified."

"And I would be within the safe walls of Hogwarts," spat out Snape.

Dumbledore began to speak.

"No, Albus. I have already taken too much of your charity. I have never been one to take handouts," he said, almost violently.

"It is not charity. I need a Potions Master and there is no one as qualified as you."

"Did you consider my other attributes? That I'm three years out of Hogwarts. Half the student body will remember me as a student." Snape shut his eyes remembering his school days—he would never be able to hold a class for more than five minutes, let alone two hours.

"And what about my anti-social tendencies? I hate children."

"You are so wonderful with Sera."

"She's my sister, that's different. Oh and let's not forget my most important feature—I just happen to be a Death Eater," yelled Snape.

"Former Death Eater, Severus, former," said Dumbledore, unmoved by his outburst.

Snape sank into a seat and dropped his head into his hand. "I can't. I just can't."

Dumbledore walked up to him and put his hand on Snape's shoulder. Snape flinched. Sadness overcame the old man as he looked down at the defeated boy. In just a few short days, he had lost so many of his students. James, Lily and Peter to death, Frank and Alice to madness, Sirius to evil and Severus to despair.

"You just need time to think it over," whispered Dumbledore before leaving Snape to his solitude.

For what seemed hours, Snape sat in the chair, staring blankly at the empty mantelpiece. Suddenly there was a violent banging at his door. He looked at it bewildered. Who could it be? It couldn't be Dumbledore.

"Open up!" bellowed a voice.

Aurors. Snape walked slowly to the entrance when the door swung open and three Aurors barged into his small flat.

"Expelliarmus."

Snape's wand flew out of his robe pocket and into the Auror's hand. Snape tensed as the other two grabbed his arms but he didn't fight them, save for a sneer.

"Bit of a disappointment. Didn't even put up a fight," said the third Auror, dejectedly, pocketing Snape's wand. Snape recognized him as the famous Alastor Moody. "Take him away."

Moody disappeared just before he felt himself being tugged by a portkey. Immediately, he found himself in a stone walled room, with no windows and only a metal chair sitting in the centre of the room.

The Aurors pushed him into the chair and instantly shackles snaked around his wrists and ankles, chaining him to the cold chair. He struggled against the restrains despite himself, hating the feeling of confinement.

Moody's hoarse laughter rang through Snape's ears as he watched the other two men leave the room. "Too late for a struggle, I fear."

Snape scowled and refused to show his defeat. He stopped resisting his bonds and looked defiantly at the man, whose chipped nose looked worse than Snape's crooked one.

"So, one of your cowardly friends told us an interesting tale, leading us to the assistant director of the Experimental Potions Lab. Care to enlighten me?" said Moody, bringing himself so close to Snape's face, his hands gripping Snape's arms.

Snape tried to pull himself out of the hold, knowing too well that he couldn't. Instead, he spat in Moody's face, initiating the desired reaction. Moody moved away, disgusted.

"Do you think that's going to stop this integration? Ha. Think again, you worthless piece of shit."

The verbal assault had no effect on him; he had become immune to them long time ago.

"When did you join Voldemort?"

No response.

"WHEN?" Moody moved close to Snape again, pinning him against the chair. Snape recoiled, in vain. Moody could see that Snape did not like being this close to him and a smile broke across his face.

"When?"

"Seventeen," choked Snape, trying to prevent his small dinner from coming up.

"Seventeen, eh? Very young. Still in school. You must be one piece of work—evil to the core," said Moody pulling away.

Snape shut his eyes, trying to shut those words out with the physical action.

"Who recruited you?"

Snape had already given Dumbledore every name that he knew. What did it matter now?

"Lucius Malfoy."

Moody's eyes became very dark. Snape knew instantly that Lucius must have weaseled his way out of a trial, with money, probably. The one person that he would really have enjoyed seeing in Azkaban would never see those walls.

"Your friend from school?"

Lucius had been five years his senior and barely noticed those younger than him. No, he had no friends in school. He had been in a group in his later years, but they were never his friends. They used him.

"Answer me."

"No."

"Have you used any of the unforgivables?"

Again, Snape found himself shutting his eyes, providing Moody with his answer.

"Imperius Curse?"

Snape didn't answer. He was lost in his thoughts

"Answer me, you pathetic excuse for a man!" whispered Moody into his ear. Snape winced at the hot breath on his ear but didn't speak. His body began to tremble.

"Legilimens," yelled Moody, pointing his wand at Snape.

Taken by surprise, Snape scrambled to protect his memories, concentrating on blocking everything instead of being selective of his mind as he was with the Dark Lord.

"I underestimated you," muttered Moody, still trying to break through Snape's mind barrier.

Breaking the contact, Moody went back to his previous tactic. He came so close to Snape and repeated his question. "The unforgivables, Snape. Which ones?"

Something turned in his stomach and he bowed his head to the side and felt his body retching out his dinner.

Moody laughed. "Which ones?"

It took every fibre of strength in his body to prevent tears from forming. He wasn't going to let this Auror break him. Memories of all the horrible things he had done clouded his brain as he felt Moody's cold hand wrap around his neck.

"Which ones?"

"All of them," choked Snape, tears forming just behind his eyes, not out of fear but out of guilt of his former actions. What was ironic was that he had played the role of interrogator, as a Death Eater, and he had been less than merciful himself.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded an angry voice just as Moody released his grip on Snape.

Both men turned their heads towards the voice, which belonged to a furious Dumbledore.

Without taking his eyes off Moody, he waved his wand and the regurgitated food beside Snape disappeared.

"Well?"

"Albus, what are you doing here?" asked Moody, uncomfortably.

"I came to discuss something with you."

"I was just in the middle of interrogating this, this…" Moody was lost for a great enough insult.

Snape was able to recollect himself during the interruption and his emotions were now safely hidden behind a façade of indifference.

"I can see that. And when did we start choking our suspects?"

"First of all, he is not a suspect. He is a Death Eater. Secondly, I would not have really choked him. It was becoming hard to make him talk, that's all."

Dumbledore's eyes blazed, dangerously. Moody was confused.

"I was just looking for information before he was put on trial. You have never opposed before, Albus."

"I had come to discuss the source of my information over the last two years," began Dumbledore.

"Your inside informant?"

"My spy, yes. The person responsible for all the invaluable information over the past two years, the person who handed you so many Death Eaters in the past week—who continuously risked his life for the Order."

"Are you finally going to tell me who it is?" asked Moody, excitedly.

"He's sitting in that chair."

Moody looked at the headmaster in disbelief. "This, this, this is your spy?"

"He's a person, not a thing, Alastor."

Snape was inwardly humiliated, watching Dumbledore defend him to this man.

"How can you trust him? He's barely a man. He would have been only nineteen when he started spying for you. He's a weasel!"

"I'm not asking your opinion, am I?" Dumbledore's voice was raised above its usual calm tone.

Both Moody and Snape were surprised at this.

"This interrogation stops here. He is not going to spend his life in Azkaban."

There was a knock on the door and a slightly paled Auror walked in. "The Dementors are here."

"He will have to be detained in Azkaban until his trail date," stated Moody.

Dumbledore's anger was barely contained as he glared, uncharacteristically at Moody. Turning his attention to Snape, his expression softened. "I'm sorry, Severus, there is nothing I can do until your trial."

Snape nodded, pushing his pride deep inside. Two looming Dementors walked in and Moody backed away. Dumbledore, though highly concentrated, did not appear affected.

As soon as Snape caught sight of the horrible creatures, his head started to hurt. Voices and images floated in front of him as he felt himself being transferred from the bonds of the shackles to the tight grip of the Dementors. His head filled with screams and bloody images. His body began to quiver, uncontrollably as his eyes rolled back into his head. The last real thing he saw was Dumbledore's pained face before unconsciousness took over his body, engulfing him into his disturbing memories…

The Present—The summer of 1997

Seralina stood outside Snape's flat, lightly knocking on the door. He had to be home, it was late and her brother did not have a social life. Yet, he didn't answer.

"Severus, I know you're in there."

No answer.

Instead, she heard footsteps approaching her from the hallway. She looked behind her to see Albus Dumbledore walking to her.

"Ms. Snape Richardson, if my memory serves me well," greeted Dumbledore, pleasantly as he reached the door.

"Uh…um…yes," mumbled Sera, cursing herself at her awkwardness. She had always been prone to nervousness so easily, and being faced with the greatest living wizard was no exception.

"Your daughter, Mira, will be starting at Hogwarts this September, right?"

Sera nodded mutely. How did he know that? She wouldn't have expected him to remember the names of all the first year students.

"It will be a pleasure to have her."

Sera began to fumble with the end of her long thick black braid, wondering what to say to such a distinguished man. She had never spoken to him before in school, except a couple of times, once being when he told her about Severus being sent to Azkaban temporarily. It had been the worst news she had ever received.

"What brings you here?" asked Sera, her eyes fixated on the floor.

"Last time I checked, only my Potions Master lived here," answered Dumbledore, amused.

She kicked herself inwardly, what a stupid question. "I just, um, thought that, well, you see him for ten months in the year. I really didn't think you would, um, be visiting him in the summer."

"Ah, Severus and I happen to be good friends, though he may never admit it," replied Dumbledore, his voice wavered slightly, and his eyes saddened.

Sera almost laughed at the ridiculousness of her brother admitting to having a good friend but her shyness stopped her.

"He's not at home?" asked Dumbledore, worriedly.

"He must be," said Sera, dejectedly. "He's just not answering."

"Unfortunate, I really needed to speak with him."

"I have the key," she said quietly, knowing that was the only way in. He had protective wards around his place, which prevented anyone from apparating into his flat while allowing anyone to disapparate out.

"Oh? I wouldn't think he would give his keys out to anyone."

"He had no choice. I made him." Sera knew that though she was shy around strangers and authority figures, she was a different person around her two daughters, brother and ex-husband, Luke. Knowing Severus's tendency to forget to take care of himself, she thought it necessary to have a copy of the key.

She pushed the key into the lock and shoved the door open. They were greeted with the smell of pumpkin juice as they entered the flat.

"Severus," called Sera.

Dumbledore and Sera walked into the living room and stopped dead in their tracks. There was broken glass on the floor, soaked in pumpkin juice. Snape lay on his couch, his head tilted towards the floor.

"Oh my Merlin!" exclaimed Sera, running forward and pushing his head back onto the couch.

Dumbledore bent down, rubbed some liquid between his fingers, and brought it to his nose to smell. "An anti-somnium draft mixed with pumpkin juice."

"Dreamless potion," muttered Sera, sadly. She knew that he kept a supply at hand.

She brushed his damp hair away from his eyes and sighed. He was soaked in sweat. His eyes rolled uncontrollably under his eyelids and his hands clenched his robes, making his knuckles white.

"He never got a chance to take it," said Sera, tears escaping her eyes. Even though Snape was her half-brother, he was the closest family she had as a child. He had always taken care of her and now, here he was, being tortured by his own mind and she felt helpless.

Dumbledore walked over to Snape and placed his hand over his heart but quickly pulled it away. His lips thinned as he saw blood on his hand. "He's bleeding."

"And he's burning up. We have to get him to St. Mungo's," cried Sera, trembling, her eyes widening at the sight of her brother's blood on the headmaster's hand.

Dumbledore shook his head, sadly. "No, we cannot. I will call for a healer, one I can trust."

"What do mean, we can't?" shrieked Sera, all nervousness disappearing in face of jeopardizing Snape's health.

"Seralina," began Dumbledore.

"No! How dare you say we can't?"

"I cannot discuss this with you but his condition is the result of something the hospital will not take lightly." Even though Dumbledore's voice was firm, it was laced with regret.

Realization dawned on Sera and began to shake her head. "No, no, he wouldn't, you wouldn't let him, no," she muttered, denying what she knew must be true.

"Sera, you have to understand—,"

"He's gone back to Him, hasn't he? HASN'T HE? How could you let him? How could you? Look at what it's doing to him!" accused Sera, tears running down her face.

"Sera, I'm sorry but I have to call a healer now." Sera noticed the deep emotion in the old man's voice but ignored it. To her, he was as coldhearted as He Who Must Not Be Named for doing this to her brother.

xxxx

Healer Brokaw had insisted that he should see to his patient in privacy.

Stirring a cup of hot tea, Dumbledore sat at the kitchen table, lost in his thoughts. He hadn't known that Severus was wounded when he had come to the Order meeting. Actually, in the last year, Snape never complained of injury. That's what concerned him the most, how long had his spy been keeping quiet?

And to think, he had allowed the Order to doubt his trust, knowing how much Snape valued it. He had come here to assure Snape of his trust in him and to ask him to compromise to prove his loyalty to the rest of the Order.

Now, he was too occupied with Snape's health to venture into the area of the Order's opinion of him. Unlike many believed, he was worried for his spy not because he was useful but because he cared about Snape, who he had known since the boy was eleven, a boy he had failed somewhere along the line.

Looking over at Snape's distraught sister, he could see that she also believed that he was heartless, sending her brother into the middle of a war zone. What she didn't understand was everything that they did was for the greater good of the world, wizard and muggle.

"He should be alright now," said Healer Brokaw, entering the room and breaking the silence. "His current injuries, though damaging and undoubtedly painful are not mortal. However, if he continues to ignore them, they will become more problematic. It is the accumulation of wounds over this past year that has rendered him into the state that you found him in."

Sera gasped, giving Dumbledore an accusing look before leaving the room. Dumbledore sighed. He was right; the boy had been ignoring his injuries.

Dumbledore placed a bag of coins into the healer's hand. "Thank you, Fenton."

The healer nodded and disapparated.

xxxx

Snape slowly opened his eyes. Where was he? What happened? He looked around. He was in his bedroom, but how did he get there? He remembered pain and nightmares, no, they were memories. Now he felt no sharp pain, just a dull aching.

"Severus! You're awake," exclaimed Sera as she walked into his room and flung her arms around him. Snape winced in pain as her body pressed against his wounded chest.

"I'm alright, Sera. What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? You, mister, were passed out in your living room, bleeding and running a fever for Merlin's sake! What were you thinking, Severus? 'I'll just lie here and bleed to death.' You ever heard of a healer?"

Snape cringed at her reproachful voice.

She fell into the chair beside him. "I work at the hospital, Severus. I know every single healer in that place. I do St. Mungo's payroll, for crying out loud and you couldn't even ask for help? Is it because you're too proud?"

"I couldn't—."

"Because you would have to tell me that you were going back to You Know Who, that's why. How could you, Severus? How could you? Look what he has done to you. I thought…I thought you would want to get away from that violence. I mean…" She found herself choking on her words, tears breaking loose, yet again.

"Sera, you know why I do this," replied Snape, sitting up in his bed and putting his hand on top of hers.

Sera pulled her hand away, angrily. "You do this for people who don't give a damn about you or to make up for sins you already have paid for. I don't know but either way, it's pointless.

Suddenly his eyes became cold and dark. "I will never be able to pay for the things I have done, no matter what I do," he snapped.

"You have paid for the sins of others since you were a child," whispered Sera, her expression becoming distant.

"Doesn't matter," muttered Snape, taking his eyes away from his sister and noticing Dumbledore approaching his room through the open doorway.

"What is he doing here?" asked Snape, acrimoniously.

"He came to speak to you. He called a healer here."

"A healer? Here?" said Snape, jerkily.

"Very confidential, I guarantee," replied Sera, bitterly.

Snape tensed at the thought of someone seeing his scars, old and new. Had Dumbledore seen? He shut his eyes, he hoped not.

"Severus," greeted Dumbledore.

Snape nodded. "Headmaster."

Dumbledore cringed at the use of formality.

Silence. Snape knew he wanted to speak with him in private.

Sera gave Dumbledore an icy glare. Snape could see that Sera blamed Dumbledore for his current situation as much as she blamed him.

"I'm not leaving," said Sera, firmly.

"Don't worry about me, Sera. I'm well enough to handle him," assured Snape.

She looked at him uncertainly and sighed. "Fine. I have to pick up the kids from Luke's place tomorrow. I'll be back later in the day."

Snape nodded and Sera gave him a hug. "Don't do anything stupid 'till than, please."

"He won't," replied Dumbledore.

Sera ignored the headmaster, all respect for him gone, thus diminishing her shyness in his presence. Snape nodded and she disapparated.

"Why did you not tell me of this?" asked Dumbledore, sitting in Sera's evacuated seat.

"This is none of your business," he said, sneering.

"This is very much my business as it is I who asked you to resurrect your position amongst the Death Eaters. Did you not realize how badly you have been jeopardizing your health by trying to mend yourself?" shot Dumbledore.

Snape turned his head away and shrugged.

"Maybe you shouldn't go back," suggested Dumbledore, his parental instincts overcoming his logic.

"You know that's not an option. You have no other source of information."

Dumbledore nodded, remorsefully. "During the summer, I want you to come to Grimmauld Place after a Death Eater meeting to have a healer check you over. During the school year, you will have to see Madame Pomfrey after any such meetings."

Snape looked at him in utter disbelief. Did Dumbledore really think he would walk into Grimmauld Place when he was so vulnerable? He couldn't afford to lose his daunting image by showing any weakness. "I will not," he said, flatly.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and raised his voice. "You will do as I say."

"You can't force me."

"Yes, I can. I will be bringing a Hogwarts house elf here, one that will take your orders unless they are in violations of mine. The elf will inform me if you do not come to the Order headquarters after a meeting."

"You can't do that! I hate house elves. They are such a nuisance. I need my solitude."

"You won't even know he's there," replied Dumbledore, a sense of finality in his voice.

Snape clenched his jaw, trying to control his temper. There was no way to stop the headmaster from going through with the foolish scheme.

"What did you come here for in the first place?" asked Snape, knowing exactly what it was and even though he didn't want to talk about the Order meeting he desperately needed to change the subject.

"That, we will discuss in the morning. It's already 2am. You need to rest now. I will be in Sera's old room if you need me."

"Excuse me? Why aren't you leaving?"

"I promised your sister that you wouldn't do anything rash until she arrived. As Sera has lost any faith she had in me, I think it is vital that I stay," answered Dumbledore

The headmaster smiled faintly at the disgusted look on Snape's face. Snape scowled at the old man as he left his room.

Sinking into his bed, he let out an aggravated sigh. He was being forced to give up his privacy and endanger his intimidating aura. Also, he knew that Dumbledore would ask him to speak with the Order in attempts to gain their trust.

No, he would have the Order members' distrust over their pity any day.

xxxxxxxx

Well guys, that's that :) I realize that this was very long and I described many things. I hope it's not too much?

Thanks for sticking with me. Please review, I really appreciate the comments and opinions. WeasleyGirlca

Review Replies

TheDarkLadyOfRavenclaw: I hope you're not too mad at the long delay. I promise to finish the story! I'm the same with first chapters and I'm glad you liked it! I hope the 2nd chapter was at your standard as well. I'm not sure it was too long? Anyway, thanks for the review!

Asha Ice: I hope I've kept your interest even with the length. Thanks for the review!

Tall oaks: I think this idea is commonly used, especially after the stuff we learnt about Snape in the 5th book. I hope I can instill some uniqueness in my outtake of him and the Order :) Thanks for the review!

Ova: Hehe, I've wanted to kick Moody and slap Harry a bit for a while now :). I hope to succeed in putting Moody in his place by the end of the story. Thanks for the review!

Manic: Hmm…I haven't read Choices and as I took so long to write this one, I haven't much time to read it. Who's it by? I'm sure there would be a lot of stories with similar ideas…and I hope mine can stand as unique in idea, plot or writing style as the story progresses.

Queenie-97: I've always seen him as a tortured soul, pretending to be all strengths and no weakness, when in reality we all have weaknesses. I hope you liked this chapter as it continues to explore him 'torn to shreds on the inside'. Thanks for the review!

Morena Evensong: Tell me about it! I really think Snape is under appreciated and will probably stay that way until the end. Moody seems the type to question his trust, doesn't he? Thanks for the review!

Snivellus aka Heather Granger: Thanks! I hope you liked this chapter.

HP: Thanks! I hope this chapter was to your liking too.

Viskii: I hope I can take it in an appealing direction! Thanks for the review!