Title: Feet of the Snake (2?)

Author: changclaire5
Pairing: Snape/Harry, Snape/other?
Rating: PG
Summary: a continuation of "Name of the Rose", how does Snape cope with the revelation?
Archive: Please ask first. Thank you.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rowling, not me, and I'm not making any money off of this.

Beta: the wonderful accioslash

The night air is fresh and fragrant. That is the first thing I notice after Apparating back from the meeting. Hogwarts lies dark and quiet in the distance, only a handful of windows are still lazily spilling out the blinking candle lights. It's after midnight, after all. I recognize the ones that belong to the Headmaster's office. So Albus is still up, most likely anxious to hear my report. Although it cannot be seen from where I stand, I know the lights in my dungeon quarters are still on as well. Harry has never failed to wait up for me after a meeting, no matter how late I came back from them. My routine in the last two years, ever since Harry moved in, is to go directly to Albus' office, give him a terse report, and immediately retire to my quarters to let Harry soothe me to a dreamless sleep. Details can wait until the next day when I would be more rested and alert. Tonight, however, for the first time in years, I want to be alone.

I walk into the Forbidden Forest, just deep enough so that a casual passer-by will not be able to see me. I take off the heavy black robe and the mask, shrink the mask, stow it in a side pocket of the robe, and spread the robe on the ground beside a thick tree trunk. Suppressing a grimace, I sit down on the robe and lean my back against the tree. My encounter with the Dark Lord alone earlier today is like an unwelcome ghost in my mind, lurking in the shadows, occasionally swooping through me without warning and causing me to shudder. I work to banish that ghost, shooing it deep into the recess of my mind, leaving out only the discussion about the Posterus Fidelis. I would as soon Obliviate myself of the whole episode, but Albus needs to be warned about this new development. If the Dark Lord manages to perfect it, he might foresee our surprise attack planned two weeks hence. I shudder to consider the potential consequences. He could also discover my treachery. I wonder idly if it's a good thing or a bad thing. After a while, I decide the question is not worth my time. Another unwelcome thought occurs to me and I swallow. What if the Posterus Fidelis was actually successful and the Dark Lord already knew everything? I mentally go through the entire encounter with him today, including the Death Eater assembly tonight. Was he merely playing with me? Surely I couldn't have survived the Posterus Fidelis circle if only his faithful were supposed to pass it? Did he make a mistake or did he simply lie to me about the runes to mess up my mind? I feel a headache coming on and decide to let Dumbledore worry about this. My mind is messed up enough already; it doesn't need to be tormented by further uncertainties.

The Death Eater meeting was easily the most boring one I've attended this year. Nobody died crawling past the rune circle, no one failed to complete their task or give a satisfactory report, and none were hit by Cruciatus. The Dark Lord was pleased with the progress we've made. A concerted attack of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade by Death Eaters, werewolves, dementors and giants will take place on time as planned at the next full moon. I imagine the Headmaster will be satisfied too, as it seems that a last minute change of plans will not be needed. Will part of his satisfaction be based on the expectation that his golden child can soon be reunited with his true love, instead of being tied down by his wayward and untrustworthy Potions-Master-come-spy? A small lump forms in my throat and I cough to clear it. It serves no purpose to dwell in the past. My priority is to prepare for war, for my last bid toward freedom. Everything else can wait until after that.

I stand up with difficulty. My limbs are still too shaky from this afternoon's experience. No, I will not think about that! Slowly, I shake off the twigs and leaves from the robe, fold it carefully and carry it with me inside the castle.

Albus is indeed still waiting for me. The golden lights spilling out from under his door into the dark stone corridor have always helped me to relax and even warm up a bit every time I return from a meeting. They fail to do so today.

I knock. The door swings open before my knuckles make contact with it for the second time.

"Severus." The Headmaster looks his age now, and is looking more tired than ever before. War does that to people. He is sitting behind his huge and cluttered desk, the blasted twinkles still firmly in place.

"Headmaster." I acknowledge, and step inside. The door closes itself noiselessly behind me. I take a seat in front of the desk, put the folded robe at my feet, and clear my mind of all stray thoughts that I do not wish to discuss tonight.

Dumbledore looks at me closely and frowns. "Are you alright, Severus? You look dreadfully pale. Should we postpone this until tomorrow? "

"I'm fine, no need to fuss." I snap. He doesn't appear to believe me. Hardly surprising. I hide my bitter smile.

"Then lets finish this up quickly so you can go rest. You look tired." He pours me a cup of tea, adds a liberal amount of sugar in it, and forces me to take it by levitating it directly in front of my face. I grab the handle of the cup and take a sip. The hot and sweet liquid actually calms me down somewhat. I wonder, not for the first time if, as rumor has it, he indeed adds a calming draught to his tea. I swallow another mouthful.

"The Dark Lord is dabbling into old forbidden Divination spells now." I start without preamble. "What can you tell me about Posterus Fidelis?"

Dumbledore frowns again, deeper this time. He is silent for a long minute, no doubt trying to dredge up old memories. I stare at his beard. Is it possible to have one's beard turn whiter when it's already completely white?

He starts slowly. "Posterus Fidelis, if I remember correctly, is a branch of Divination using dark art methods. It is old magic that has been forgotten. I don't believe I've seen any reference to it in books written later than the fifteenth century. Is Voldemort trying to find such a reference?"

I bit back a bitter laugh. I am still reminded now and then why I joined the Dark Lord in the first place. Aside from acceptance, a sense of belonging, of being cared for, the Dark Lord also offered knowledge, knowledge beyond even Dumbledore's grasp. Knowledge that he alone could teach us. "No, the Dark Lord has rediscovered it already, he only needs to perfect it. In fact, he's already tried it this morning."

Dumbledore looks alarmed, as well he should. "What did he do? What did he see in the future?"

I sigh, massaging the bridge of my nose. "I don't know the details, Headmaster. But he told me that he saw some vague images, including one in which Harry was still alive. That was the reason he summoned me earlier. He thought there might be a traitor in our rank. By pure luck, I convinced him that Potter could be kept as a slave in the future, so his being alive doesn't automatically mean our defeat."

"What else did he see?"

"He didn't elaborate. But he seemed satisfied with my explanation. So I would assume that whatever he saw must not be clear enough, yet, to alert him to our plan. He said he would try to modify the runes to see better."

"Runes?"

"Yes, he mentioned that Posterus Fidelis was done with a combination of the rune magic with some complicated charms work. He had to tailor the rune pattern to fit his needs. The rune pattern he devised covered a good portion of the floor in a fairly big chamber. The pattern was very complicated. I hardly recognized a third of the runes. I will put my memory of it into your Pensieve tomorrow if you think that'll help."

"Thank you, Severus, that could be very helpful."

"Yes, well, other than that, nothing of much significance happened. You'll be happy to know that the Dark Lord now has his mind firmly set on the attack at next full moon. I trust we will be ready at Hogwarts?"

"We will, Severus. With your help, Harry and our Order will prevail once again. I'm confident about that." His voice is low and determined. I hope wholeheartedly that he's correct in that.

"I bid you good night then, Headmaster. I have a full schedule tomorrow." I gulp down the rest of the tea and stand up.

"Very well. Shall we meet tomorrow during lunch break to discuss the details?" He stands up as well.

"As you wish. Good night, Headmaster."

"Good night, my boy. Pleasant dreams."

I halt the door before it closes behind me, "Oh, Headmaster, you should be aware that the Dark Lord also designed the runes to test the loyalty of his followers. I had the honor to be the first one to pass the test."

With those last words, I turn and walk away. The door closes with a thud behind me. I smile grimly.

The walk back to my rooms is uneventful. There are no students breaking curfew to snog in the shadow of statues and no overheard conversations that I would rather forget. With a muttered password, I enter the rooms I now share with The-Boy-Who-Lived. The rooms I considered my refuge until last night.

The lights are still on, so I see Harry immediately. He is sitting in his favorite oversized armchair facing the door, sound asleep. A huge tome lays open on his knees. I stare at him, the man I've loved for almost three years. Even with the ugly old-fashioned glasses askew, the tiredness written all over his face and dark shadows under his eyes clearer than ever, he is still handsome. The dark and messy mop on top of his head belies the soft and springy hair that is so pleasing to run my fingers through. The long and slightly curly eyelashes cast a shifty shadow on his pale cheek. Two rosy lips are full and moist, opened slightly in sleep. And the strong chin juts out minutely, just enough to remind me of its owner's pride and stubbornness. Yes, to my eyes, Harry Potter is still a very handsome man indeed.

I sigh quietly. Pity that we are not to be. I go to the washroom and spend some time cleaning myself. Will I ever be truly clean again? I force myself to think of the classes tomorrow, the potions I need to prepare for the Order and the Dark Lord. One step at a time, I remind myself, one step at a time. I finish washing, put on a nightshirt, and go back to get Harry.

He starts awake when I put my hand on his shoulder. "Severus, you are back!" He is instantly alert. I wonder if it's my safety he's worried about, or the information I came back with.

"Obviously."

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Why did he summon you early?"

"I'm unharmed. Let's go get some rest. We can talk about the details of the meeting with Albus tomorrow at lunch time."

"Okay." He agrees readily. He is always most considerate after a meeting.

He follows me into the bedroom. I get into bed, turn to face away from his side and firmly shut my eyes. Within seconds, he sheds his dressing gown, extinguishes the lights and slides in beside me. He squirms to get closer, flings an arm and a leg over me and hugs me closer. His familiar warmth seeps through our nightshirts. I feel just the tiny bit better, and relax a little.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you again. Did you go prowl the castle last night? I waited for you, but got too sleepy in the end. That was a long prowl, wasn't it? Did you at least catch some curfew-breakers? Dish out some detentions? I remember this one time when Ron and Hermione…." He keeps mumbling away, about things that are so trivial that no one but him would remember. His lips move against my nightshirt-covered shoulder, warming that spot further. I listen halfheartedly. Gradually, I relax some more. Before I fall asleep, I hear a sleepy "I love you, you know." Do I? I give no reply.