Author's Note: Yes, I am BACK! I think. Anyway, I actually have time to do fun stuff now, so I'm gonna keep working on this at least all summer. Also, for those of you who are wondering if One Young Heart will ever be finished; I discovered I had a logistics problem between what I was planning on doing with the story and what happened in book 5 (yeah, bad planning there), so I will be leaving that story unfinished until book six comes out, and I'll just rework the rest of the plot I originally laid out to fit with both books.

Casting Shadows at Noon

Chapter 9: Flashes of Lightning, Rolls of Thunder

"What does he seek to gain from this exercise?"

"An understanding."

"Of?"

"Your plans."

Voldemort condescended to drop his feet from the table to the floor, and to glare directly at his reticent spy. "Remind me again why I keep you around?"

"My ready wit, perhaps?"

"Ha." A crack of thunder resounded outside, and the tent became a few shades darker.

"Let's try this again, shall we? Why does Dumbledore keep attacking our French outposts?"

Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and decided that the joy of a quick retort wasn't worth a kick in punishment. "To see if you have changed the fortifications, thus indicating a plan of attack. An increase in our presence there suggests an internationally staged assault upon the ministry."

"I don't understand it."

"Well, I could always use shorter words."

The dark lord's patience expired, and Severus was summarily flung out of the tent and into the mud. Brushing grime out of his hair, he waited to see who would next be summoned into the sole haven of light in the dark, soaking campsite. A man rose, responding to a barked order. Snape smiled inwardly, knowing by the man summoned that Voldermort's next move would be to lessen the fortifications in France, to divert the ministry from what must surely be the true force in muggle Russia.

"You're sure that it is only a feint?"

Severus wanted to snap that he had one job to do, and he was damn well doing it to the best of his ability. "Yes." Dumbledore saw Snape's anger in the mirror that lined the dungeon supply room where they sat, saw a man bored with such simple exercises and longing for a real test of his abilities. "I trust you." Then you are a fool, Severus wants to say, but even as he thinks it, he knows it is not true, knows that he is trapped in the web of allegiances and betrayals that his headmaster has built for him, incapable of any gesture of disobedience, of defiance. The rebellion which in his childhood was only a regrettable side effect of his search for knowledge had become a holy grail, a longed-for but unwinnable privilege which he could only dream of finding. "Also, I'm afraid that things have taken a rather nasty turn as far as the ministry goes." Dumbledore glanced at the missive in his hand, sighed. "Ever heard of a Delores Umbridge?"

Snape glanced up, then back down to the powder he was grinding. "No."

"Well, whoever she is, I'm afraid she will be our new Defense professor. And that she is almost certain to be allied with Fudge."

Snape raised a single eyebrow, poured the powder into a cauldron bearing the beginning stages of a wolfsbane potion, and ducked to avoid the sparks it sent up. "Oh, did we switch sides? I didn't notice. Too bad, I really hated Fudge. I could poison him if you like."

"What I want you to do is act self-interested." Dumbledore feigned annoyance at the cloud of acrid smoke filling the room, and resisted the urge to fall into the potion master's bitingly sarcastic mode. Severus was every bit as loyal as McGonagall, and probably the better person to rely upon in a battle, but in the man's unusually talkative bitter humor and dramatic gestures he saw the after effects of a Cruciatus curse, and knew that any attempt to join in the conversation would only inspire Severus to drive him away again. "Fudge may fall into the trap of believing that you are on our side only to clear your name. Umbridge will almost certainly believe this. She may come to see you as an ally."

"Odd, I thought that was the only reason that I'm on your side." His brow darkened as he added more ingredients haphazardly. He knew that he was approaching an edge, and the bitter rage in his heart welcomed the chance, was recklessly willing to lash out, to hurt the old man in any way.

Albus sounded uncharacteristically sad. "I was only trying to help you, Severus. You would never have left him if I had not turned you in."

Powdered dragon's claw hit the wall. A vial shattered, and the flames beneath the cauldron leapt to full height, licking at the ceiling. Snape reveled in the power, in the rush of letting his anger free; snarling, he hissed across the flames, "What in merlin's name gives you the right? My soul is mine for the caring, old man." Even as the rage coursed through his veins, he was overwhelmed by sadness, was almost in furious tears as he flung his parting words. "I don't feel saved, Albus. I don't feel redeemed."