Gold and Silver, Fire and Ice

by Ankha

Harry's in trouble and who comes to save him, Snape! Yes the dear old Potions Master. But soon they're both embroiled in a sea of uncertainty. What is the Star of Hope and how can it defeat Voldemort? Can the new family survive?

28. Ask Me Once

A/N: *bounces into the room with a wild smile on her face* Hello everyone, I'm back! And here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except what you do not recognize or know to be mine!

Remember: Peace, Love and be a Marauder! I mean, why wouldn't you be?

~......~ Means telepathic speech.

#......# Means Parseltongue.

+......+ Means Phoenixus.

*......* Means inner voices and Severus's good mental voice.

^......^ Means Severus's evil mental voice.

Chapter 28- Ask Me Once

Harry sat back from the desk, venting a frustrated sigh. Three days (A/N: Why three? Because I seem to like that number) the twins had been gone and the situation at the castle had gone from bad to worse. The security had become chokingly tight. It was rather like his second year when no one could even go to the loo without a teacher. They hadn't reached that point yet but the Gryffindor did not doubt they would soon.

His father had steadily grown worse thanks to the poison. He could still move around at short distances but had been confined to bed the first day by the Headmaster and Harry. The man had completely broken down when the kidnaping of the healer and its purpose had been revealed. His father and son had, had to drag him from the Great Hall, kicking and screaming, to the Headmaster's bedchambers where he had been strapped to the bed. The Gryffindor was not surprised by this response as he had a theory. He suspected that Seri and Severus were life mates, soul bonded, or chained at the heart, however one wished to phrase it. He suspected that of a few others, but the feeling was strongest with his father and the healer.

In the absence of the dark-haired man, Harry had assumed control over his Potions classes. Many other professors had protested of him doing so but the Gryffindor had demonstrated plainly that he was capable of handling the job. The protests that had come from Remus, Sirius and the Headmaster were concerned for his health. Could he handle the stress of tending to his sick father, helping search for a cure and the twins, and teach; they only worried about him. Harry had assured them he was not taking on the bulk of the work alone. Evie, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Draco (all of whom now knew who Aury really was) used every minute of their spare time researching cures for every poison known to man. Normally, all they would have to do was put their healing ability to work and purge his body of the foreign form, but it didn't work. Not that they hadn't tried, several times in fact. It just hadn't worked. Draco, who'd learned to dowse not long ago, was constantly hunched over maps, most of which lay in scattered heaps around him. With Harry's time so occupied, he was the closest connection to the healers they had beside Artemis and Severus. One of which was too sick to be of use and the other constantly in use! The Ancient Runes professor was pulling double duty: teaching class and overseeing the Slytherin house. Added to that, Voldemort seemed to have become more active since Halloween, there were raids every night! He could only hope the pace slackened to one raid a week. Artemis came in every night, clearly exhausted as Severus and recently Harry had so many times before him. The Order of the Phoenix was in no order at all but complete chaos. With both number threes missing, one number two unavailable and the other as well that left the others to take up the slack. Not an easy task when the Head of the council was not there most of the time either. No, the Headmaster was perhaps the most thinned out of all. The heartache of seeing his child in such a state was taking a toll on Albus and he seemed to be gaining back the years that he'd lost. Harry remembered what had occurred the other day when he'd gone to relieve his grandfather of watch duty.

(Flashback)

With a distinct weariness in his step, the fire mage made his way towards his grandfather's rooms. As he passed, students gave him a wide berth, both from respect and fear. He was too used to this reaction to pay it any mind or effort to make them stop. It had caused great confusion at first until Ron had offered an explanation. The red-haired Gryffindor explained that Harry had been leaking power. This, of course, made perfect sense. Wizards and witches each had there on power sense that they gave off. How strong it was depended on how powerful they were. With Harry's mage powers, he was stronger than any witch or wizard. He had kept his power out flow checked so as not to scar others but with his attention and concentration being pulled elsewhere, the walls he had set up around it had fallen. Ron had described the sensation of walking around him as being bathed in pure energy. This had surprised the mage, but he was too tired to give it much more thought. Most students, except perhaps the Slytherins, had been respectful towards him, whether they be older or younger. He'd had a hand in helping all of them learn something new, and they knew of his abilities. Not only was he considered one of the school's top duelist, he'd earned at least a small amount from all the houses, even the Slytherins, for all he had done. The only problem with such respect was that everyone expected so much out of him. He was only fifteen for Merlin's sake! Sure, he had defeated and outsmarted the Dark Lord in battle several times, finished his N.E.W.T.'s, was the leader of his own soldiers, number two in the Order of the Phoenix, substituted in several different classes (mostly Remus's and Severus's) and was a mage, but Gryffindor's curly-toed shoes! He was still just a boy and he wasn't sure how much more he could give.

He leaned against the wall and whispered "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum," to the gargoyle before stepping onto the spiral stairs. The reason for his lethargic movements was simple: No sleep for the past two days. He had to keep moving though because he knew that if he didn't, he would fall asleep and he couldn't do that yet. There was just too much to do. He pushed open the door of the office, noting its untidy state. Seemed as though the house-elves hadn't made it in to clean. It was the Headmaster's habit to keep up his own room without the little creatures' assistance. Maybe he should speak to Dobby and Winky about that. He was sure they wouldn't mind helping, probably be ecstatic to. Picking his way among the scattered paper and out of place furniture, he made his way up the spiral staircase behind the desk. This part of the room was often masked by a charm, one that Harry and Severus could see through. It led to the Headmaster's inner sanctum. Here was his personal library, sitting room, lounge, kitchen and observatory. Also, was two other bedrooms that Harry and Severus used whenever they felt the need to be away from the dungeons.

He trailed his hand along the smooth wooden banner, marveling at the coolness. Like ice. He gave the door a soft knock.

"Albus?" he whispered softly. There was no forthcoming response. Without a word, he tapped the knob once, breaking the locking charm, and silently pushed open the door. It was dark and cold, the curtains were drawn and the fire had long since gone to ashes. No sound came from footfalls as he approached the bed, waving a hand to restart the fire. No part of Severus was visible under the thick covers. In the chair was Albus, curled up asleep. An open book lay in his lap. Harry laid his hand on the old man's shoulder, jolting him from his slumber.

"My turn, why don't you go get some real sleep," The teenager commanded with a firmness most would think uncommon to his nature. The Headmaster, apparently too tired to argue, stood and leaned over the bed, searching for Severus. Uncovering the dark head he leaned in to his hair when the Potions Master jerked away violently, burying himself once more. Even through the thick covers both could hear him mutter, "It's not real, none of it's real." Harry witnessed the devastation those simple words caused. The man's expression crumbled. The facade of strength that he'd put up to support the world was destroyed in that instance. The despair and heartache over his son's condition possessed his expression and he fell to his knees beside the bed.

"Oh God, I'm going to lose him. He's sick and there's nothing I can do for him. I'm his father, his father damn it! I should be able to protect him and yet I can not even do that." The Gryffindor fell beside the man and pulled him into his arms as sobs choked the thin form. Harry had anticipated this and was ready. He understood the man's feelings for his were the same.

"No, Albus, this is not your fault. You could never have known this would happen. You, like we all, thought Sev's biological parents were dead. The thought that they would suddenly appear here at Hogwarts was one not even to be considered." He shifted until Albus looked him in the eye. "Don't let it get to you. We have to stay strong. If we don't, we're finished." He pulled him close again, burying his face in the maroon fabric. He understood, more than anyone knew. That man in the bed was the first to love him for whom he truly was. Sirius had offered to raise him once he was free in his third year time, but his godfather had not even known him then. Severus had offered to be his father after spending two of the most stressful months of his life with him. Those two months....seemed now to be more like two years. He would never trade that time for anything. Except for perhaps, his father's health. He wrapped a stonewall around his own raging emotions. He would pay for this action later but now, he needed to be levelheaded. The then form in his arms shuddered as the Headmaster pulled himself under control. With a sharp whistle, Harry summoned Fawkes to the room and commanded him to watch over the Potions Master while he tended to his grandfather. The man was pliant, allowing his grandson to put him to bed. Once he was certain Albus was asleep, he crept back to the upstairs bedroom and took his place in the chair. Severus had once more buried his boy under the covers. Barely visible was his shaking. Amazing, thought Harry. In a matter of two days their entire world could come crashing down around their ears. It seemed almost surreal. He shook his head.

Green eyes slid out of focus as his over-taxed body began to win its demands for sleep. Fawkes, seeing the boy drifting off, flew to the back of the chair and cooed loudly. The call fell on deaf ears as Harry could only hear the sounds within his mind. His own heartbeat, strong and steady was a soothing rhythm. But it was not just his heartbeat he heard but also two others. Thump. Thump. Thump. One was slow as if from sleep and he knew this one must be Albus's. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Like a frightened deer, this heart raced. Severus. Without a clue as to what he was doing, he reached through their bond to his father, calming the man's heart and coaxing the body to sleep. It resisted greatly to being told what to do, but in the end the Potions Master's body obeyed the boy's command. His pulse slowed and evened out as Severus settled into (Harry hoped) undisturbed slumber. The Trinity's hearts beat as one. Satisfied, the Gryffindor allowed sleep to overtake him. Even though it would be of monumental importance, Harry did not remember what he had done when he'd woke the next morning.

(End of Flashback)

He'd slept till noon the next day, today, and now he was avoiding work. During his off period as a professor he worked on finding the needle that held the poison in the necklace. When he wasn't working on it, it remained under a strong sealing charm on his desk for all to see. It was a constant reminder to the students of what had happened but most would not forget. Seeing one of their own professor's poisoned by the man's own parents was disturbing to them. A great many of the Death Eater's children, the one's who had not been completely brainwashed or had a truly malevolent nature began to re-think their parents line of work and if they truly wished to follow in their bloody footsteps. That, Harry grimly surmised, was perhaps the only benefit of this whole situation. It was now lunch, which he'd stopped going to in favor of working, and in front of him was the necklace. In one hand was a jeweler's eyeglass he'd borrowed from the dealer in Hogsmeade and in the other was a common pair of tweezers.

Searching for the cure was all fine, well and good but it would make the work go much quicker if they knew what the poison was. That had yet to be determined. Even if they knew the poison, the prospect was still bleak. After all, Salazar was a master at potions and they had said there was no cure, which meant there probably wasn't. He rubbed his eyes. Merlin, could this possibly get any worse? (A/N: Never ever say that my boy!)

"Harry." The Gryffindor looked up to see his Head of House approaching with a large tray of food. Harry could not help but smile. Since the incident at the ball, her attitude had completely turned around. He was suspicious of the sudden change, but as there was so much occupying his thoughts at the moment, the suspicion was pushed to the back of his mind.

"Harry, you really must eat something, you're thin enough as it is." The fire mage's smile was thin.

"Thank you, Professor, but I'm not that hungry." His stomach let out a loud growl to contradict that claim, making Harry blush and McGonagall raise an eyebrow.

"I see. Since you're not 'that hungry' will you at least drink your lemonade?" The fire mage stared at the swirling seeds and ice contained within the glass. Well, he was parched but something within him stilled his hand and made him hesitate. The thought of McGonagall's change flared within his mind but he pushed it aside and grabbed the glass. After all, he thought as he downed the drink. It's not as though his Head of House would poison him. (A/N: Oh, the irony of it all.)

***

As the teenager lifted the glass to his lips, the Transfiguration teacher was fighting to follow through with her urge to knock it from his hand. But the iron grip of Pomfrey's Imperious Curse tightened and she stood helpless as he quaffed the liquid. She adopted a semi-sympathetic/concerned smile as she took the tray away. The Arde's Revenge had begun to wear off a week ago, and she had tried everything in her limited power to make it obvious she was under outside control. But they hadn't noticed and she was beginning to wonder if they ever would. Her latest move had been to switch the slow acting poison to one that would take effect more quickly, so that perhaps it would be connected to her. She could only hope that it worked.

***

Harry watched the Transfiguration professor exit before he returned his attention to the piece of jewelry. Once more he the eye piece in place and began to rotate the pendant, tweezers at ready. He spent the next fifteen minutes in complete silence, slowly rotating the necklace. Something caught his attention. At first he wasn't even sure if it was there but the desperate drive to find anything made him pursue. Bringing his face so close his nose brushed the diamond spikes, was the metallic sheen of a needle. Drawing a deep breath to steady his trembling hand, he reached for it with his tool. Closer and closer he drew, knowing that if he missed he would not be given another chance. Steadily closer until the magnified ends of the tweezers hovered above his quarry. With one final breath, he reached, and successfully plucked it off! Managing to contain another outburst of joy, he dropped the needle into the petri dish and reached for his grandfather. The man was in a meeting but could not ignore his grandson's overwhelming exuberance. After all, Harry had not been this happy since before the Halloween dance. In the middle of the meeting, Albus broke out into a grin and full laugh. The new Minister and his assistants were startled by the sudden outburst and immediately inquired as to its cause.

***

Harry possessed a wide grin when his class, fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, entered the room. Many responded to his upbeat attitude and smiled as they grabbed their cauldrons and took their places at the long tables. The Slytherins had many raised eyebrows as to their once fellow student now turned teacher's behavior.

"Good day, class, today we will be attempting to brew the Calming Potion," He raised an eyebrow and adopted his father's customary sneer, "For those of you that this will be too difficult for, I will be seeing you Saturday. Now," With a dramatic twirl of his cloak, he proceeded to the room's chalkboard. Before he could reach it, the world suddenly flip-flopped and he stumbled. He caught the corner of his desk and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

"Harry?" Ron called as he, Hermione and Draco rose from their stools. He held up his hand and straightened.

"Pardon, became a bit dizzy," Another deep breath, "I'm all right now." As he continued onward to his destination, he could only hope that he spoke the truth. The period proceeded with no further incidents as they copied down their notes as the professor wrote them and began to gather their ingredients from the students' cupboard. Harry leaned a moment against the cool wood of the desk to once more regain his equilibrium, thankful that no one saw him do so. What could be happening to him? He'd never felt quite like this before. He did not like it one bit.

"Does everyone have the necessary ingredients?" There were murmurs and nods. "Very good. Now, first take your knives and slice the seaweed into quarter inch pieces. Make sure to measure carefully; you don't want them too long or short or.....or......" Harry's mind went temporarily blank. With a shake he commanded himself to keep his mind on the task at hand. "Or it will be ineffective." The stumble in words was ignored by most but it caught his three friends' attention. They knew he would not fumble for words; it was not in his nature to do so. First the missed step and now at a loss for words, what was going on? "Once you have added all of the seaweed to the boiling water, find your.....your...." Damn, why couldn't he remember? And when had the room become so unfocused? With a snap, it came back to him. "Your Roman Snapdragon, yes, and snap it over the cauldron so that the blue pollen falls inside." Harry wiped a hand across his forehead. The temperature in the room seemed to be steadily rising. Perhaps it was his imagination of the fact he was leaning over a steaming cauldron. Assuring himself this was true, he leaned away from the frothing potion. The temperature continued to rise. "Once you have done this, you must stir the potion counter.....counter....." His eyes drooped and the world began to spin, "counter...." Unable to fight any longer, his eyes fell closed and he slid sideways off the stool on the unforgiving stone floor with a wheezing grunt. Startled cries, a flurry of running feet were dampened by the pounding in his ears. Distantly aware, yet unable to react, he sensed himself being lifted into a sitting position by Ron and Draco, both of whom were calling his name.

"Harry? Harry!" Dim were they compared to the pained cry of his grandfather, who was at that moment on his way to the dungeons. With his last bout of strength, he reached for his bushy-haired friend.

"Hermione!" Though shouted it was barely a whisper. "Dish," His hand flopped in an attempt to gesture towards it. "Needle, in dish. Found." Strength finally failing, he collapsed into oblivion as the door burst open. Silence, then....

"NOOOOOO!!!!"

***

"No," Albus whispered this time. Everyone but the three, who were intent on their friend, turned. Long frail fingers gripped the doorframe, his wild blue eyes locked on the fallen figure. What his form was trembling from, weakness or the radiating sadness, no one had a doubt that it could only be both. Swallowing, he pushed himself forward. The crowd parted in silent respect, many sympathizing with the Headmaster's plight. To have one family member fall ill was horrible, but two? Neville, showing bravery he kept so well hidden, stepped up and laced his fingers with the older man in silent support. If Albus was aware of this, he did not show it, continuing onward. When he reached the four, the Gryffindors peered at him, before moving aside. Now on his knees, he lifted his grandchild into his arms, head tucked under his chin. No words, just the slow rocking of the form within his arms. None approached, fearful of the deep sadness and anguish the blue orbs they were so used to see twinkling merrily, held. Neville was first to act.

"Come, sir, let's go back to your office." Releasing the hand in favor of the robe, he coaxed the man to his feet and out the door. The class's eyes followed them before returning to the front when Ron cleared his throat.

"Everyone, clear the room. Dump your potions and tidy up." No one moved at first. Draco stepped forward, blue and green eye flashing.

"Move. NOW!" he bellowed. That garnered a faster response as everyone scrambled to follow the order.

***

The bell rang as the odd trio made their way down the hall. Students spilling from various classrooms, chatting amongst themselves, halted and fell silent as the Headmaster and Neville passed. Unnerving it was, the whole situation. The small Gryffindor ignored the attention they were receiving. Nervous he was not, that very thought had not crossed his mind. His thoughts solely circled around his worry for his mentor and friend. He had always idealized the Headmaster and wished greatly to be like him, in his own way. Fairly certain was he that he could never achieve the great things Albus Dumbledore had, but perhaps he could make a difference, in someone's' lives. Harry he had always considered a friend if not a close one. The fire mage had always kept an eye on him. There were many times he'd wished he could offer his help in return. A glance at the still body made him realize he might be given that chance.

***

McGonagall watched with conflicting hazel eyes as the Headmaster's party passed. Up till this point in time, she had not been able to do any decisive damage to the family. Opportunities just had not presented themselves. Her last attempt to foil their plans had been at the Halloween dance. She had intended to stop the play, unmask the marauding Weasley twins and have them publicly apologize to the entire school. That had backfired when she had encountered the 'force field' placed around the arena to protect the audience. While it seemed that Harry and the others could make their way past it, she could not. The time before that had been when Snape, Harry and the mutt had entered the school. It was sad the Cruciatus had not connected and that she had not been given another chance to try. Minerva gave her head a violent shake, trying to clear those horrible thoughts. No, Severus didn't deserve the curse, he..... Pomfrey's Imperious overwhelmed and once more controlled her thoughts. There was not much more she could do but watch them pass, carrying the knowledge that it was her doing, and weep inside.

Once the Headmaster had disappeared around the corner, McGonagall commanded the students sharply to move along. This snapped them from their dazed states and they scurried past her, not daring to gaze up into her stony expression. Oh, if they only knew how she wished for someone to realize that this wasn't her, but another acting through her. But no, none had, or so she thought. How could she know the gentle mental pressures she felt whenever one of the Hogwarts's Three approached was their probing. Trying to discern what would cause a stern, yet fair woman to turn into a bitter old witch; how could she know?

Once all the students had vacated the area, the Transfiguration professor preceded swiftly to her quarters, as it was her off period, where another awaited her. Pausing only to give the lion in the portrait the password, "Revenge," she nearly bowled over Pomfrey, who seemed to be on her way out. McGonagall gifted the woman with an awful glare.

"Where do you think you're going? While everyone on the staff excluding Filch, Hagrid, Maxwell and Lupin know you are here, it is unwise to go wandering the halls. A student, especially one of Potter's friends, might see you and this entire endeavor would be for nothing. You, Poppy, would be in Azkaban faster than you can say 'Innocent'," she reminded with uncommon spite and venom. The other woman's tone did not seem to affect the ex-nurse for she grinned devilishly.

"I was merely going to check up on our dear victims. There was no real danger, I was planning to wear an invisibility cloak." The Transfiguration professor gifted her with another wilting glare as she lowered herself in her favorite chair.

"There is always danger. Potter, Dumbledore and Snape can see through invisibility cloaks," she informed the other. The ex-nurse gave a non-committal shrug and snagged a seat across from her (unwilling) partner in crime.

"Snape I would have some concern over but he's, well," She grinned again, "unavailable at the moment, thanks to his real parents. Dumbledore seems to out of sorts and Potter I don't even consider a threat. Or, I won't have to consider soon." The professor shifted in her seat, fingers idly twisting the green fabric of her robe.

"Did you administer the poison?" The nurse continued when McGonagall did not speak. A curt nod. Pomfrey's grin widened. "Excellent! We should see a reaction within a day or two." At this, the professor coughed.

"I'm afraid not. He's already entered the comatose state. I just saw Dumbledore carrying him down the hall," Witnessing the ex-nurse's startled expression, she shrugged, "You may have gotten the levels wrong and it turned out to work faster than you wished," She shrugged once more and wanded herself a glass of water. Over the brim of the clear glass she surveyed the other's reaction. Was it her imagination or had there been a flicker of suspicion in the other's eyes? She was not to know for in the next second Pomfrey let it be.

"It's very possible, Minerva. I'm no expert when it comes to brewing potions," Her wide grin returned and the slightly crazed laugh that Minerva had heard when all of the madness had begun, surfaced, "Brewing potions is Severus Snape-Dumbledore's line of work." McGonagall let out a weak chuckle.

"Indeed it is, indeed it is."

***

The trip to the Headmaster's office, which Neville had never been in, finally came to an end. The stone gargoyle, sensing Dumbledore's state, leapt aside without a password, for which the Gryffindor was grateful. The revolving staircase was only wide enough to allow one, so Neville stood behind the other. Reaching their level, they disembarked. Again the door opened without a sound or command, making Neville wonder if perhaps the rooms had been charmed to do so. The Headmaster paused once inside, swaying from side to side and murmuring what sounded to be an old lullaby.

"Sunshine falls across your face, and warms the very air," Though whispery, his voice spoke of a powerful love in a surprising bass tone. Neville froze, turning to listen.

"Chase away those scary thoughts," Thumb gently running over the child's forehead. "There's no time to spare." The Gryffindor shook himself from his entranced state and moved forward.

"Come, sir, maybe we should put him to bed or somewhere he can rest," he reminded as he drew level with the older man. Part, if not his entire message seemed to filter to the Headmaster's mind and he nodded, pausing in his song.

"Somewhere he can rest, yes, I'm sure the little one would not mind sleeping with Severus." Having made up his mind, Albus made a straight-line course for the window, once more picking up his tune.

"Love and laughter, are the key. If you want to be happy." Neville, fearing the man had gone completely nutters and intended to go out the window, rushed after him.

"So please, my little one." He caught a fistful of robes just as the window disappeared and a staircase took its place.

"Smile, don't frown." Neville halted, letting the robe slip through his fingers.

"Look up, not down."

"Wow," he whispered before shaking himself from his thoughts and following Albus, who was already half way up.

"Know love, not hate." There was a door at the top of the landing that creaked open to reveal a long hallway, more doors lining each side. None of these concerned the man as he continued in an unwavering straight line.

"Hurry up now and don't be late." Neville hovered close by but at a respectful distance. The ancient wood of this door showed its age by the pock marks and scratches with one deep gash running diagonally across the center.

"Sunshine falls across your face, and warms the very air." This one possessed no knob but opened when the Headmaster placed a hand over the gash. That was actually the most recent mark, created by a violent outpouring of Severus's natural magic. Draco had been unable to visit, the search keeping him so busy, to fix it. The Headmaster once more pause in his singing to coo at Harry.

"Come, little fire child, I know you are weary. You have already fallen asleep! A bit of rest beside your father will do you good, yes, do you good indeed." The Headmaster continued to ramble as he entered. The room they came into was cold, but it had not always been so. Albus continued his lullaby.

"Chase away those scary thoughts, there's no time to spare." The walls were the same gray flagstone as the rest of the castle but mostly hidden by the brightly colored tapestries. Each depicted scenes of either peace, war or love.

"It doesn't matter how, I only know it's right." Pushed against one wall as a double king size bed, several times the size of the ones in the Gryffindors' dorms. Five feet from the bed on the same wall as the head of the bed, was the gray stone fireplace. The deep pit of ashes signaled of its recent use.

"Don't worry now, I'll hold you tight." Opposite the bed was a window, light shut out by thick black curtains. To the side of the window was a small work table, parchment strewn over it aw well as several bottles of ink and a quill. The floor, he discovered, was covered in a thick red carpet. The color of blood, Neville guessed with a shiver.

"Sunshine falls across your face, and warms the very air." Walking with no difficulty, even in the low candle light, Dumbledore moved to the bed, climbing on. It was then the Gryffindor noticed the other occupants of the room.

"Chase away those scary thoughts, there's no time to spare." On either bedpost was a bird, a snowy owl he recognized as Hedwig and falcon he knew to be Rowena. Between them was a phoenix, or so Neville guessed it to be. He'd never seen one before but many pictures of them. At the pillow, curled around the large lump, was a obsidian feline, silver eyes watching Neville with suspicion before switching to concern as her gaze shifted to the Headmaster.

"Close your eyes, and go to sleep." At the lump's feet was a cream puffskein that snuggled against it, purring in a comforting sort of way. The Headmaster pulled the covers back enough to lay Harry beneath them before moving to strip him to shirt and leggings. By the expert way in which he move, the small Gryffindor surmised that he had done so before. Once done, he pulled the covers over the thin body and sat beside him.

"My promise to you, I will keep." The last note hovered in the air for only a brief moment, then passed on. "Oh, little one," Albus whispered, brushing the long black tresses from the pale face. He repeated the phrase and action over and over for several minutes. Neville, unsure what to do, called the man.

"Headmaster? Headmaster Dumbledore!" The call fell on deaf ears. Sighing, he turned his attention to the shelves that lined the wall beside the window and began to inspect them. The Headmaster needed something, anything!- to calm him. Perhaps the ever-common Calming Potion that Harry had tried to have them brew that very day in class. He knew what it should look like once completed, an opaque white, all he needed to do was locate it. The oddly shaped glass bottles contained red, green, dark and light blue, silver and gold liquid, but no white! Blowing away his bangs in frustration, he moved the spindly wooden chair beneath the shelves and stood on it to get a better view. Just as he reached to move the bottles aside to get a better view, a sharp pain seared through his finger and he jerked back with a yelp. From the shadows slithered Octavian, the candlelight giving his white scales an eerie glow.

#Who are you?# the snake hissed, forgetting the other could not understand him. Neville rubbed his index finger and glared at the creature briefly.

"I'm trying to find a potion for the Headmaster, do you understand? For. The. Headmaster," he repeated slowly. The coal black eyes held no comprehension. Neville sighed again. "Trying to help!" These words were perhaps more clear or maybe he understood the term "help!" nevertheless they garnered a reaction. The snake let out a commanding hiss, bringing the creatures (excluding the puffskein) to him. Neville was not given the chance to move as Hedwig perched on one shoulder, Fawkes on the other and Rowena on his head. The cat leapt up beside the reptile, directing a question to him. Much to the Gyrffindor's surprise, the snake responded.

#All I got was 'help'. I've heard it enough from the mouth of humans to know what it means. What do you sense from him?# The Veras cat arrested the nervous boy in her sights; weighing, analyzing and examining.

~He seems to wish no harm on our friends, do you three agree?~ The birds nodded.

+He does wish to be of help and at this point may be the only one who can. Albus seems to have taken temporary leave of his senses,+ Fawkes glanced at his master, trill deepening with concern. +At least, I hope it is only temporary.+

+So we agree; we let him near our masters?+ Hedwig asked and received confirmation from all. The albino snake slithered onto Su Lin's back and she hopped from the shelf. Ro, Hedwig and Fawkes returned to their perches on the bed, leaving Neville free to move. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he maneuvered the bottles around until he found his quarry, tucked away in a corner. Transfiguring one of the parchments into a paper cup, he filled it to the brim and moved back towards the breath.

"Headmaster? Sir?" Cerulean blue eyes held a glass-like quality, expression dreamy.

"Yes, my young student, what is it?" Swallowing back his sorrow at what his Headmaster had been reduced to, he offered the cup.

"I thought you looked thirsty," he explained. A wide, if not fake, smile crossed the other's face.

"Why, I am at that." Without a second thought and to the Gryffindor's eternal relief, the man downed the entire contents of the cup. Not five seconds later, he was out like a light.

"I guess the only way for him to be calm is to be asleep," Neville muttered as he slid off the bed. Taking out his wand once more, he levitated the Headmaster's boy and arranged it so that he could be more comfortable before pulling the blankets over him. Corking the potion and replacing it on the shelf, Neville lowered himself in the high-backed chair, trying to determine what to do now. He did not wish to go to his Head of House, some deep rooted instinct cringed away from that idea as though it were the plague. Perhaps one of the other professors then? Out of all of them, Lupin seemed to be the best choice, but he did not wish to leave the Headmaster and family alone. His dilemma was solved for him when his roving eyes fell on the scattered parchment and quills. Of course! He could send a letter with Hedwig, he was sure she would deliver it to him if it would help Harry and the others. As he began to write, thoughts of others filled his mind. What of Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Aury? Surely he couldn't leave them out. And he wouldn't, he decided as he began to write them a message as well. Blowing on each to insure the ink was dry, he rolled them up and gave both to the snowy owl.

"Take one to Professor Lupin and the other to either Ron, Hermione, Ginny or Aury. All right?" The owl gave a brief hoot before flying out the window Neville had opened. Reclaiming his chair, he set his chin on his fist. There was nothing he could do now, but wait.

***

Remus, who had not witnessed what had happened in the hall and was not paying particular attention to gossip that was running rampant in the room, was startled when a snowy owl flew into his class, disrupting his lesson. A quick glance revealed the animal to be Hedwig as he relieved her of the message. It was short, to the point, with a faint note of pleading and a great amount of worry. What startled him nearly as much as the contents of the letter was the fact that it was in Neville's handwriting. Without further thought, he dismissed his class, assigning them an essay that would land most of them in the library the rest of the period.

Reading over the message one last time, he rolled it up and stuffed it in his pocket, sweeping from his classroom. If what Neville, at least he presumed it was Neville, was right, then the situation had gotten completely out of control. A sudden thought struck him, stopping him in his tracks. What of Sirius? He was Harry's godfather and part of his family. Now that the boy had taken ill.....Sirius might be able to help, if he kept his head on straight and temper in check. What made that thought more appealing was the fact he was still in the castle, having promised Harry he would stay and support him. It seemed as though the young fire mage was going to need that desperately. Having made his decision, he pulled the parchment back out and quickly added his own words before dispatching it to the animagus through Hedwig. The owl, only too happy to comply, was off in a flurry of feathers. He was about to continue his journey when he was nearly bowled over by a woman. Pulling himself aside at the last moment, he glanced back to see the signature silver hair.

"Seleyna?" he called questioningly, seeming not to realize he'd spoken these words aloud. She glanced briefly back and the Defense teacher was surprised to see tears streaming down her cheeks. Oh Merlin, he thought, what had happened?

***

Of course she had sensed what had happened, how could she not have? Since Halloween there had been a dull ache within her, always present. From experience she knew the cause was Severus. But the other pain, one similar to the one from her foal...child, was from Harry and Albus. What made the ache dissimilar was its origins were emotional but not physical. Severus's was both. It may have only been three days but with each passing hour, nay, each passing minute the Potions Master's pain increased. Combined with Harry and Albus's feelings it was all she could at times to keep from bursting into tears. Now she could no longer fight that urge. Her grandson's poisoning had sliced through her like a sharp stiletto. Albus's following madness had been the veritable straw that broke the unicorn's back. She had to leave. There was someone she knew might be able to help, but it would be difficult to reach him. The hardest part was the fact she would have to leave her new family. Possibly for good.

Blindly she raced down the hall, only slowing when she ran into someone. Stumbling, but picking up speed once more, she did not glance back. That is, until someone called her name.

"Seleyna?" A look back; it was Remus. She could not pause to explain, there was no time. There was the chance he wouldn't understand anyhow; he did not know who she had been. By his startled expression she knew the tears were shining on her cheeks. She wanted to tell him why, but if she succeeded in what she planned, she might not be given that chance. Down one staircase and another. Through one hall and the next. At the foot of the stone steps of the school's entrance she halted, swaying precariously on her feet. It was now or never, even with Hagrid's class in plain view. Well, she decided as she closed her eyes, if any where watching, they were about to be treated to a show. What she didn't know was there were people watching, the entire class as well as Hagrid in fact.

The wind picked up noticeably, swirling leaves around her black dress. Her heart hammered almost painfully as she gathered every scrap of magic within her body, pushing it into the transformation. There was great danger in attempting to resume her natural form. If she failed to put forth all of her effort it was very probably this would end in disaster. If it did, she would likely be half human, half unicorn, not surviving. But a powerful force, desperation, drove her to take the risk. It was necessary to save her family.

Her arms raised and the wind picked up even more, ripping the dress from her body, he braid whipping wildly. The black lightening bolt began to glow white as her face lengthened. Ivory skin darkened until it was black. As bones began to re-arrange themselves, a cry of pain escaped her lips and she fell to her hands and knees, body quivering. With one great convulsion, enormous black wings burst forth from her back. Gasps rippled through the on looking crowd.

Bones continued to change; moving, lengthening or shortening themselves. Muscle and flesh moved into new areas, beginning to define a new shape. The fingers of her balled fists melted, fusing together, taking on the silver gleam from which she'd earned her name. The braid unraveled itself and the silver hair became a mane as it traveled down her now much longer neck. From the mark on her forehead grew a silver horn, one possessed by all her kind. Only a bit more, she was so close. With a final burst of magic and willpower, which blinded all those watching, it was over. Still and silent it grew as the wind died. When normal vision returned to those watching, they gave a collective gasp. In the place of the woman now stood (albeit on wobbly legs) a full grown Barice unicorn. The creature slowly opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. Everything appeared so different now, could it be she succeeded? Wanting to make certain, she trotted to the lake, falling back into her old ways quickly. It was much easier adjusting to being a unicorn than a human, she decided as she neared the water's edge. Almost fearfully she peered into the mirror-like surface, and let out a whiny of both joy and relief. She was herself again, but with one added feature: the white ring around her front left leg. The weight of its significance fell upon her like a ton of bricks and she sprang towards the Forbidden Forest at a full gallop. She needed to find her brothers, soon!

***

Neville stood at the window with his jaw resting on the floor. He'd witnessed the entire transformation and didn't know what to make of it. He wasn't even certain why he'd gone to the window in the first place, but he had. That woman, that had been Lady from Halloween, the one the Headmaster had been so taken with. Was she some sort of animagus like Professor McGonagall? But the change had been effortless for the Transfiguration teacher, yet painful to Seleyna, if he remembered her name right. Could that mean that maybe it hadn't been just a transformation? With a frustrated sigh he resumed his place in the chair. Nary five minutes later did someone downstairs shout his name.

***

When Remus entered the Headmaster's office, it was to find it empty and in a despicable state. He picked his way carefully through the junk, reflecting on his surprise. The older man never allowed things to degenerate in such a way. The situation must have been far more grave than he'd ever imagined.

"Mr. Longbottom? Neville? Where are you?" No answer followed his call and he moved to the window to glance out it, seeing nothing of interest.

"Professor?" He turned and yelped. There was Neville, sort of. Before him was the shadowy form of a staircase and his student, but he could see through them both. Cautiously, he approached.

"Mr. Longbottom? Neville, why can I see through you?" The boy looked down and shrugged.

"I know this was hidden when I came in. It appeared when the Headmaster approached it," He held out his hand, "Com on, Professor, they really need you." Still wary, he came closer until he grasped the other's hand. It was solid. A quick glance revealed the structure the student stood upon was just as real and solid. Light blue eyes met brown.

"Lead the way, Neville," he encouraged. They were almost at the top of the landing when the door burst open. Sirius, in his human form, darted inside.

"Remus! Where are you? Harry? Anyone!" he cried desperately, searching the room. Remus cursed under his breath and clamped a hand over his student's mouth.

"Yes, that is Sirius Black, no he is not dangerous or out to kill Harry. He's innocent and also Harry's godfather. Promise not to scream?" Neville nodded, though his eyes were still very wide. Sighing in relief, he removed his hand and called to the man below.

"Sirius, stay where you are. I'm going to check on the three now. Take a seat and keep an eye out." The ex-convict halted and nodded.

"I don't care how that slimy git is, I'm worried about Harry. Help him if you can, Remus, please." The low voice held such a note of despair and pleading it surprised the werewolf. Of course, he berated himself, he should not have been surprised.

"Let's go, Mr. Longbottom," Remus reminded, shaking the boy from his thoughts. Neville nodded, then hesitated.

" 'Slimy git'?" He had to ask. Remus allowed himself a weak chuckle.

"It's an old school-boy grudge, nothing to worry about. Lead on."

***

Fifteen minutes later the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had to admit defeat. There was no doubt that Harry had been poisoned, but its affects were erratic. The boy would flight from coma to high fever and consciousness to cold and hot flashes. From there, possible death at any time. He collapsed in the chair and ran a hand through his graying hair. He'd seen poisons that did one, but never all of these things. This was going to take work.

"Well, Professor?" The young Gyrffindor asked from beside the man. Remus jumped and laid a hand over his racing heart. He'd forgotten the boy was even there.

"Poison, no doubt about it. We have to find what type before we can do anything. It's almost a mixture of specific potion types. Right off the top of my head I can't think of which," He paused to rub his weary eyes, "as for Albus.....I'm no medi-wizard or healer. The best we can do for him is to keep him sedated," a small smile, "Which you have already done with the Calming Potion, good work." Neville's cheeks colored pink. He was almost never praised for anything.

"It seemed best, sir," he mumbled humbly, fidgeting with the end of his sleeve.

"I think Gyrffindor deserves ten points for you actions," The boy blushed further and muttered about not deserving it, "Not another thought to it, you earned them." He shook his head. "No telling what would have happened to him had you not done that quick thinking." Remus shook his head again. "I'm not surprised he reacted in such a way, what surprises me is that it didn't happen sooner to both of them when Severus fell ill." The young Gryffindor's expression lacked a certain comprehending element as he cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean, sir?" While absentmindedly straightening the coverlet, Remus responded.

"You see, Neville, these three share a connection, a mental bond with one another. It apparently formed a short time before school began and has been growing ever since. Emotions, even physical pain is shared through it. While I've never seen or heard of such a thing happening before, it has here. These three are special. In some way it seems like destiny that they should meet and become close. At times I swear there isn't three minds working there, only one." His mouth flattened into a thin grim line. "I won't let them be separated, not if I can do something to prevent it." Moved by the man's passionate words, the young Gryffindor allowed his eyes to drift back to the silent occupants of the bed. Special? These three? No one could be more so! It was the feeling of electricity that crackled over your skin when they approached. The backdrop of subtle power hidden behind wise, benevolent eyes. The blanket of safety that fell over your being when in there presence. Special? Of course! Though the feelings of all this were absent or dimmed as they lay on their sick bed, it would return, with their health.

"I want to help, Professor," he stated quietly, but firmly. Blue eyes flickered in his direction.

"How?" The werewolf demanded. At this, Neville's confidence stumbled and he shrugged.

"My best subject is Herbology. I could help harvest any plants needed for a curative draught or I might be able to identify any pestilential plant that was used on Harry. To do that, I would need his clothes and a sample of his blood." The Defense teacher listened and nodded as the student spoke, agreeing with what he proposed.

"That would be good. Why don't you go see how Sirius is doing and if anyone else has come before gathering what books you'll need. I'll draw Harry's blood then you and I will begin working in my quarters. How does that sound?" Neville nodded, small smile on his boyish face. He was being permitted to help.

"I'll go get them now." He turned to leave but Remus called him back.

"Take this," He pushed a note in the other's hand, "This will allow you in the Restricted Section as well. Just tell Madam Pince what you need." Another nod and the Gyrffindor was gone. When he was, Remus leaned wearily into the soft cushions of the high-backed chair and reached for the Headmaster's hand. He would help, all of them would.

***

(Sev's Dream)

The night air tore through his outer cloak and robe, biting into his skin mercilessly. He wished nothing more than to go inside but he dared not. Where he was now, he wasn't certain having been brought by portkey set by another. Tonight was the night and he could barely contain his excitement. But deep within the pit of his stomach there was a growing ball of dread and fear. But, of course, who wouldn't be afraid of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard of all time? This was the day he'd been waiting for since his fifth year, wasn't it? Since the break-up with Seri there had been no one there for him. Then his parents had stepped in, offering him what so many others wished, the position of a Death Eater. His real fear should be if he would be able to stand proudly to the task but, for some reason, it was not. His deepest fear now was that someone should find him here. Especially someone with forest green eyes.

A large hand fell on his shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze. He did not have to turn to know who it was.

"Are you ready, my son?" It was Salazar. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded. "Good," Salazar said gruffly, clapping him hard on the back. "You would do well not to disappoint us, Severus, you know what we can do." The seventeen year-old nodded, managing to suppress a shiver. He was quite aware of what Salazar and Jasmine Snape were capable of. Over the years he'd been subjected to abuse, both mental and physical. Neglect, abandonment, and all around torment. His father was an expert Potions Master, one of the finest in the world. He'd used his own son over the years in a variety of experiments. Thankfully the man had never poisoned him in any way and the only lasting effects had actually been beneficial. Eyesight, auditory and olfactory sense had all been noticeably heightened. His father's line of work was actually sparked the interest in potions within him. Instead of being afraid of the dark dungeons, he'd enjoyed spending time down there, away from the rest of the world. He would use small portions of all of the ingredients, brewing and re-brewing until he discovered not only most toxins by the time he'd entered Hogwarts, but antidotes as well. But of course, he only brewed while his father was away. With such high demands on Salazar's time, he was away often. Now the time had come, he told himself as he took a deep breath. He would make his parents proud of him today.

Silence fell over the small group as a tall cloaked form glided through them. As he continued to the black marble throne, realization of who this had to be dawned on Severus and the ball in his stomach twisted. There was no turning back now. As he ascended the steps and sat not a sound was made, even the forest creatures were silent. With one pale hand he through back the hood and pulled down the cowl to reveal....an almost ordinary man. Severus was surprised. He would have expected perhaps something a bit more strange from the greatest wizard of all time. In all truth there was almost nothing about the man that set him apart from any other wizard. Severus estimated him to be about six foot seven inches in height with a wry build. Pale skin, short cut black hair that did nothing to hide the reptilian red eyes.

It was those eyes that made Severus want to bolt in the opposite direction as fast as his feet would carry him. They were also what glued him to his spot. Red eyes scanned them, trying to detect something known only to him. If you could characterize it as a him.

"Crucio," came the hiss. Beside the teenager dropped a Death Eater, writhing from the pain of the curse. Severus managed not to cringe away, barely.

"You failed you mission, Walkens, and allowed your team to be captured while you saved you own pathetic skin. I can not have weak servants." The wand raised and the man collapsed in a boneless heap as the curse was terminated. "Do not let it happen again or pain will not be you punishment," the voice dropped lower, "but death." The man hauled himself to his feet and stumbled forward to kiss the evil wizard's robes. With a sneer that rivaled any Severus himself doned, he kicked him away. It was then those red eyes fell on the Slytherin. Swallowing thickly, he stepped forward and bowed.

"Severus Snape, my Lord Voldemort." It left his lips in a very quiet tone. With his head down, he did not see the dark wizard leave his throne until he was before him. A hand under his chin lifted his head up and he found himself face to face with the personification of evil himself. His chin was lifted higher then tilted from side to side; red eyes examining, studying, weighing.

"The son of Salazar and Jasmine." It was more a statement than a question but Severus felt compelled to answer.

"Yes, my Lord." The eyes narrowed.

"Yes indeed. There is potential in this one, Salazar. Great power, buried deep, waiting to be released." The gleam that shined from the Dark Lord's eyes sent a shiver down his spine The want to run had increased ten-fold, yet he still could not move.

"Yes, he will do. Hold out your left arm, Severus." The tone of the voice left no room for argument yet something deep within him stilled his arm from moving. 'What am I doing here?'- his mind cried. 'I can't let this creature touch me, he'll....!'

"Your arm, Severus." Voldemort did not care for repeating himself. Without thinking, the teenager did as he was told and almost immediately wished he hadn't. He could not do this, what the hell had he been thinking? He couldn't be a Death Eater! Killing was not in his blood, the very thought turned his stomach. He had to escape! He had to flee this place before they....!

His last thought was brought to an abrupt end as the dark yew wood touched the pale skin of his left arm. Pain of untold magnitude shot through him. The blood in his veins became liquid fire, scorching his insides. After many years of dealing with his parents he'd taught himself while still in childhood not to scream, no matter what sort of torture he was subjected to. But even he could not withstand the raw agony that was eating at him now. He wished it would stop, he begged for it to stop.....and it did. The hand released its vice-like grip from his wrist and he crumpled unceremoniously to the ground, cradling his left arm. The world danced in dizzying circled before his eyes but one voice reached to him over the pounding in his ears.

"Welcome to your new destiny, Severus." It was then the future Potions Master caught sight of what had been done to him. The black skull with a snake protruding from its mouth was branded not only on his arm but in his mind. He was a Death Eater. That very thought made him wish to drown himself. Death Eater, trapped forever in servitude. The killing the torture, the waste; he was a Death Eater, bound to serve Lord Voldemort for all time. He could not run nor hide. Trapped for all eternity. Death Eater.

"No," he whispered, trying to convince himself it was not true. High cold laughter greeted this action.

"Oh but, Severus, it is true. You are mine, forever." Death Eater.

"NO!"

***

"Severus? Father, wake up!" And the Potions Master did just that. Wild black eyes snapping open, Severus sat erect, panting as though he'd been running a marathon. Observing him with the utmost concern, were pairs of emerald green and cerulean blue orbs. Harry and Albus. A glass of water was pushed into his hand and he drank without question. Silence remained supreme until the shaking of the Potions Master had come to a stop.

"What...what happened?" he finally managed.

"You were having a nightmare. After the Halloween dance you came in here to sleep. You seemed fine for a while but then started shaking and whimpering. Both Harry and I tried to wake you, but failed. Child, what was it that made you scream so?" From his expression, the Headmaster wished he hadn't asked, but still needed to know. At the thought of his dream, Severus felt as though he'd been submerged in ice water and shivered. Drawing the blanket and his courage tightly around him, he related everything.

"It was my branding night, when I first became a Death Eater." He dug at his eyes, trying to dispel the memories.

"Perhaps you ate something at the dance that didn't agree with you or had gone bad. I will check with Madam Pomfrey to see if any others have reported feeling unwell." The Potions Master suddenly snapped his fingers.

"Salazar and Jasmine! They kidnaped Seri and Kit! We have to find them before it's too late." Confusion lighted in both the Headmasters and teenager.

"Seri and Kit? What about them?" Harry asked. Now it was the Potions Master's turn to be confused.

" 'What about them?'!? Harry! You were there! You heard what Salazar said; they were kidnaped to be Voldemort's consorts!" Albus and Harry traded worried glances before Albus laid a hand on Severus's shoulder and gently pushed him down.

"Severus, I'm not sure what you've been dreaming but I can assure you, that is not true. To my knowledge they are safe and sound in Hogsmeade. Perhaps I should have a house-elf fetch Poppy." The significance of the situation fell upon the Potions Master and he sat up once more.

"Poppy?! What is she doing here? Albus, I thought you fired her." The Headmaster's confusion deepened.

"Fired? Poppy? Why in the world would I ever do that?" Severus could barely believe his ears. Why? Why! How could the man say that? He knew exactly why Poppy had been fired! Hell, Albus had been the one to do it; and here he was, asking why she had been fired. It made no sense, none at all. Something fishy was going on here.

"Albus, you know very well what she did," Harry and the Headmaster traded glances, infuriating the Potions Master, "I am NOT going insane! Harry," He turned pleadingly to his son, "you were there, you know what happened! It was you who called the twins and told the Headmaster what happened! You know!" The fire mage adopted a compliant expression and laid a hand on his father's shoulder.

"Severus, perhaps you had better sleep." The ice mage's eyes blazed for a moment before he allowed his anger to die away. Maybe they were right, he needed to sleep.

"All right, Harry, I will." He reached up, brushing the long bangs from the other's face and cupping his cheek. The teenager's smile turned to one of horror as his skin began to break away and melt. He jerked away from Severus's touch, who had frozen. Green eyes flashed first in surprise, horror and finally in accusation.

"You....you bastard! What did you do to me?" Severus's mouth open and closed but no sound came forth as watched his son literally dissolve before him. On instinct, he grabbed Albus's hand, then released him when the same thing began to effect the older man.

"No, Harry, Albus...." He reached for them but both pulled away as though he had the plague.

"How could you do this to us, Severus, how?" Were the last words either spoke. Flesh and bone were one as they combined into a puddle of copper-toned.....goo. Breathing becoming erratic, he pulled away and into a fetal position.

"None of this is real, none of this is real. I'm dreaming, please let me be dreaming." His voice had gone from being confident to pleading as he prayed to every deity he'd ever heard of, good and evil, to tell him this was not true. The world swirled, darkness threatening to over come him . He did not resist it, nay, he embraced it as a welcome escape. His wish was granted.

(End of Dream)

Dull obsidian orbs fluttered open, surveying with suspicion his surroundings. The brightly colored tapestries were a welcome sight, familiar. It was one of Albus's spare bedrooms. He vaguely remembered being brought here....how many days ago? Time had lost all meaning in the nightmarish realm he'd been trapped within. That thought doubled his suspicion and he regarded the room darkly.

"Severus?" The voice, Remus's voice, was hopeful. To the poor Potions Master's unprotected empathic senses, it was an overload. With a faint moan he tried to sort through the jumble of emotions, hoping to clear his head and discover why the man was in such a state. It could not all be because of him, there had to be more. One emotion, deep, overwhelming worry stood out like a duck among swans. Focusing on that, he delved deeper. Bidden by his command, a picture of Harry came to the surface. Severus almost catapulted out of the bed. Harry! His son! Like a magnet to metal, he eyes were drawn to the still pale form beside him.

"No," he breathed, pulling the, he suddenly realized, incredibly frail form into his arms.

"No, Harry, my child, you can't leave me. Please don't leave me." He was completely unaware of the other that had entered the room, nor of the fact he was being restrained by the Defense professor. No, completely oblivious to the world, he rocked the boy in his arms, tears cascading shamelessly down his cheeks. Why the tears did not fall and dampen the boy's white shirt did not seem to matter. His world was crumbling and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

***

Remus watched in silence as his fellow professor wept. There was nothing as of yet he could do to help. Sirius, beside him, also surveyed the scene with no words, though tears of his own were falling. His godson, so pale, eyes closed. The aura of life and love that surrounded his very being was noticeably absent. And that scared him. In all the time he had known the boy, he'd never seen him without the feeling of great power and life. To see it gone was like seeing a different person. And Snape, no, Severus in such a state....was unnerving. In his mind, he was the last person the convict would have suspected of falling apart in such a way. It was then the animagus noticed the tears streaming down the man's face were not hitting Harry but.....flying through the air. Looking down, he could see Remus squinting in concentration, wand tip quivering. The crystalized tears were traveling through the air and into a bottle within the werewolf's hand. After several minutes of this collecting, the Defense teacher seemed satisfied and corked the bottle, slipping it into his robes.

"Severus?" No response, only more tears. "Severus!" Black eyes, once filled with sorrow, now contained unrestrained anger.

"Who did this?" It was not a question to be ignored or left unanswered, yet Remus searched desperately for any lie he could give. There were none.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but he collapsed during Potions. Neville escorted him and the Headmaster here." Severus's anger dimmed a moment.

"Albus?" Remus nodded to the man. The sorrow returned, now doubled as he brushed the wispy hair from his father's face. A sigh of untold emotional pain escaped his lips.

"Oh, father, what has become of us?" The ex-convict and werewolf observed them in silence. There was nothing they could say, there was nothing that could be said.

"He became a bit unbalanced after Harry's poisoning and had to be sedated. I'm not sure when he'll wake." The Potions Master failed to acknowledge these words, his glazed expression suggesting internal examination. All possibilities thought through with the same conclusion: Voldemort. A ball of anger and guilt formed in his stomach. This was his fault, all of it. NO- he could almost hear his little one and father shouting into his ear. It was not his fault, but he intended to fix everything.

"This is Voldemort's fault. Had I not been poisoned no one would have dared to come after Harry," Black eyes, cold and hard as ice, narrowed, "I will find who did this and I promise: They will not live past that day." The poison's effects were creeping upon him once more and he felt himself losing his coherency. There was no way of combating it, but he had to allow its course. Settling once more, he kept a firm arm around his son, blantenly daring for anyone to near. No one would.

***

When Neville descended the stairs it was to find a full room. Sirius was pacing, unconscious of the items beneath his feet. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting together, talking quietly. Evie was apart from them, nose buried in a book and notes spread out on the cushions beside her. Aury, however, was conspicuously absent. As he left the last step and became visible, he was pounced upon by the fire mage's godfather.

"How's Harry? What did Moony say?" The stress of the situation on the man was shown as he slipped back into the habit of addressing the Defense teacher by his Marauder name. For a moment, fear gripped the small Gryffindor. Remus's words came back to him and he pushed the fear and the ex-convict away.

"Professor Lupin confirms that Harry has been poisoned," The convict's eyes closed to hide the agony they held within. He couldn't lose his godson, not Harry. "He's not certain what kind, so I'm going to help him." Those last words were spoken with a distinct pride that made the one Ravenclaw and three Gryffindor students smile.

"Can I see him?" Sirius demanded. Neville blinked, as he'd forgotten the man's presence, and nodded, grasping the other's wrist. He led him to the staircase, which, he discovered, you had to believe was there in order for it to appear. He pointed up.

"Follow them to the top and it's the last door at the end of the hall," he instructed. Making his understanding plain, he thanked the boy and bolted up the stairs. As the Gryffindor turned back to the others, the door opened to admit two new figures.

"Great Phoenix, how much more could actually happen to these people?" Artemis demanded.

"As if Severus, Albus and Harry haven't been through enough already," Draco added bitterly, throwing himself on the couch Evie occupied, covering his eyes. Artemis sat beside him, putting an arm around his shoulder. Neville's voice, trembling with disbelief and uncertainty, drew their attention back to him.

"Malfoy?" Draco's head snapped up and the blonde fringe covered his eyes. He had forgotten to put the disguising charm back on.

"Oh shit."

***

Seri sat calmly in her chair, idly leafing through the brittle yellow pages of the tome in her lap. Three days they had spent at the Riddle Manor and surprisingly been treated with high respect. Voldemort had left them in the care of Severus's biological parents. Gleefully, Jasmine had related what had happened to the Potions Master. It had been all the golden-haired healer could do not to strangle the woman on the spot. Part of this spectacular restraint had come from the fact that Kit had pinned her snarling sister to the floor. Mrs. Snape had found the entire situation amusing to no end and used any chance of taunting Seri to her advantage. It was later discovered by the healer that the older woman blamed her for the "corruption" of her son. Apparently, Seri surmised, she held grudges for a long time. Of course, Seri took this a supreme compliment. She was not one to normally invoke such anger and resentment in another.

She and her sister had been given the run of the Manor, barred only from two rooms: Voldemort's private study and the front veranda. While neither had a desire to even near the sitting room (this was where Voldemort conducted his.....ahem....delicate negotiations), both felt a bit disappointed in not being able allowed on the veranda. The two had an avid love for the outdoors and the chance to be among nature. Being cats, it was in their blood. Of course, both knew exactly why they were not allowed out. Security, simply. Riddle Manor sat upon a hill, overlooking the town of Little Hangleton. She had watched the slow hustle of the sleepy town from the window of her room many times. During these observations, she had witnessed the wary glances and evil glares cast upon her new residence. She did not understand this reaction, at first. Her primary hypothesis had been that the town's muggles sensed the enate evil that surrounded the manor. It would have not caused her any surprise if this were true. The scent of torture, death and anger weighed so heavily upon the air at times that she gagged. She, nor Kit had ever been in such an atmosphere before. Only briefly on the battlefield but here it was a constant, and frankly nauseating. She found out later, however, exactly why the place was avoided by the residents of the town below. It was all made clear by a two clippings dating over fifty years ago and only last year. No wonder they never approached.

She had restricted her living here to two rooms: her bedroom and study. The bedroom had been exceedingly luxurious by almost any standard you placed upon them. After the first night, the sisters had been placed in separate room, though they were identical. They sported four poster beds with heavy green curtains. In the same heavy green was the coverlet, Slytherin's personal family crest embroidered in silver. Though both detested having to sleep with that, they were grateful for the soft fur lining. It was the healer's firm belief that the Dark Lord did not believe in heating. Perhaps he viewed such a need as a weakness. It was strange, she would have figured that with such a reptilian nature, he would need the warmth to survive. Apparently, however, the human resistance to cold was still part of him. There was one part of his anatomy that she wished to sever before he had a chance to use it on them, that would at least solve one of their problems.

Along with green and silver, snakes were another prevalent feature of not only their rooms, but the entire manor! The bed posts themselves were twisted snakes, as well as the legs and arms of all of the furniture. Thick black carpet, another blessing, covered the stone floor. There was a bench beneath the one window, her normal place early in the morning and late evening. The room she was in now was her own sitting room which contained an enormous library. Kit's had a potions lab instead. To alleviate her ever-present boredom, she began her quest of reading every book the impressive library contained. The Dark Lord had, she surmised, used this place at one time for his research. In the Dark Arts of course. Another surprise were the enormous amount of Light books. Upon discovering the first, she had then combed the entire mass to find that at least one-eighth of the selection were books on the Light. That equated to near one thousand books. The one that currently held her interest was The Reign of Dark Wizards and Witches: Successes and Mistakes. Voldemort apparently wanted to guarantee that his take over was flawless.

The evil overlord's threat of consummating this dark marriage with his so-called "brides" (the twins) was one that loomed perilously close over their heads. On the ring finger of her left hand, forced there by magic, was her "wedding" ring. The silver band was thick and the dark stone, one that had matched her eyes Voldemort had said, was held steadfast in the mouth of two snakes. She knew this was not just simply a "loving" gesture towards her sister, there had to be more. It was the healer's firm belief that they were some sort of tracking devices, the Dark Lord's way to keep a constant watch over them. She intended to be rid of it the moment she escaped her imprisonment, and she did intend to escape. It was a snow ball's chance in Hell that anything they did would work, but she had faced overwhelming odds before and overcome them. She only hoped this time would be no different.

A faint pop sounded within the room and she lifted her head up, mind automatically switching from the book to the present. The sight that greeted her brought forth a silent groan of sympathy as she banished the book back to its slot in the shelf. With open arms she accepted the dirty little house-elf. The healer had always felt partial to the amazing little creatures that gave so much and expected nary nothing in return. They never ceased to astound her and she hoped they never would.

"What happened, Carrie?" she questioned, bringing forth every ounce of kindness within her to soothe the trembling creature. It was a few moments before the little female could speak and even then it was with great difficulty.

"Master-I burn Master's dinner. Carrie be punished by Master." The 'master' was barely uttered above a whisper, the pickled green eyes darting around the room as if the very mention of his name in such a slanderous way would bring him swooping down upon her again.

"I come as you ordered, Miss Seri." This was one of those times the healer thanked her and her sister's foresight. It was easy to recall what had happened not two days before, the twins' first morning.

(Flashback)

Puffy red eyes opened to find herself face to face with a pair of green eyes. With a startled yelp, she jerked away, almost sending her sister to the floor. The owner of the green eyes squeaked and toppled out of sight. It was a second before Seri realized what it had to have been and peeked over the edge.

"Hello," she greeted warmly.

"Mrs. Riddle!" The creature squeaked again, then cringed when the golden-haired healer winced. "I sorry, Mrs. Riddle, I sorry!" The high quality of the voice indicated it was female house-elf and she cowered as if she expected to be struck.

"No, no, dear," The healer reached for the house-elf, pulling her up by her wrist, but releasing it when the small creature let out a cry of pain. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Please," She opened her arms, "Come here." It was clear the house-elf was battling against her natural instinct to run but she obeyed silently. Once the healer had her hands on the elf, the creature was surprised that the pain disappeared. Wide green eyes met with a smile from Seri as the healer sat her on one of the bed's numerous pillows.

"Hold still," she commanded and the elf nodded, no hesitation now. With a wave of her hand and a muttered spell, the majority of the dirt was lifted from the creature's body and green pillowcase.

"Now, that's much better. Would you, by chance, have a name?" Encouraged by the small kindness she had been shown the elf nodded again.

"Carrie." Seri's smile widened. Perhaps they had made a new friend. Considering their current predicament, they would need as many as they could get.

"Hello, Carrie, my name is Serenity." The house-elf nodded, slow smile forming on her face. "Carrie know, Mrs. Riddle, we house-elves were told by M-master." The way Carrie stumbled over the word "master" left no doubt in the healer's mind who "master" was. She winced again and laid a hand atop the elf's head.

"I'm sure he did but please, I would prefer if you called me Seri. 'Mrs. Riddle' is just....well....," she shrugged, unable to describe what it was. The house-elf seemed to understand and grinned.

"If Miss Seri wishes, then it will be so. Master has assigned us under you and," she paused, not wanting to offend her new master again.

"Kit," came the sleep thick voice from behind Seri. The golden-haired woman smiled as midnight blue eyes followed by a head, looked over her arm.

"Miss. Kit. We house-elves have been put under your command." She hopped to her over-large feet. "We is here to serve you, Misses."

"That's nice of you, Carrie, but I must ask: do any of the other elves have injuries such as your's?" Carrie was quick to answer.

"Yes, Miss." Seri and Kit (who was now fully awake) traded glances and thoughts. They would have to do something to rectify this.

"Carrie, we can give you commands, am I correct?" The elf nodded, curiousness showing from those pickle green eyes.

"Well, then pass this along to the others. If any of the house-elves are hurt by Voldemort," The elf, to her credit, didn't so much as blink at the 'man's' name, "or any other person, you will come either to my sister or I for treatment, all right?" For a moment, the elf did not react, but then she suddenly grinned and bounced on her over-large feet.

"I will, Misses, I will!" She could barely contain her excitement, her bounce betrayed that. She pause for a moment, her smile dimming slightly.

"Is the Misses hungry? Carrie would be happy to bring you food!" Though she wanted to say no so she would not have to work the creature, the loud rumbling of Seri's stomach forced her to nod. Kit, who's stomach as also protesting, mirrored this action. Carrie's smile quickly widened once more. "Very good, Misses! Carrie will be back with food, then Carrie will show Miss Kit her room."

"My room?" Confusion colored the dark-haired healer's tone.

"You have separate room," the elf explained.

"Oh," said Kit, as if she understood the logic behind this. It was obvious to Seri, however, she did not. But then, how could she? She had awoken the previous night to find her sister sobbing uncontrollably. Kit had been unable to draw a word from her and eventually had to use her healing gift to put her to sleep.

"I be back soon!" And with a 'snap!'-Carrie was gone. Once this was so, Kit accosted her sister.

"All right, Seri, what's going on and where are we?" she demanded. Seri touched her cheek, the blood of the previous night now dry, making her face stiff.

"We are in Hell, dear sister, and I fear there may be no escape."

(End of Flashback)

"Feeling better, Carrie?" The house-elf nodded and slid from Seri's lap.

"Thank you, Miss. I will bring your dinner straight away." The healer waved her hand, summarily dismissing its importance.

"There is no need to rush, I'm not going any where." The last part came out with a bitter edge and she immediately apologized but the little creature would hear none of it.

"That may not always be true, Miss. That may not always be true." This startled Seri in such a way that she could not speak for a good thirty seconds. When she was able, all that came forth was a squeaky, "What?"-but the elf had already made her exit, leaving the woman to wonder exactly what she had meant.

***

Silverhoof's footing was not as precise as she wished it to be as she crashed through the forest at an insane pace. Slipping back into the "old ways" had not been as seamless as she had hoped or liked. She had been human for almost a month after all, she should be taking time to readjust. The situation, however, forced her to throw all caution to the wind and that was why she was doing what she was doing now. Tree branch. Root. Rock. Mud. Root. Tree branch. Each she dodged with increasing ease. Her body screamed at the abuse she was putting it through. She was over three hundred years old after all. But she did not stop, not even pause. There was no time for that.

***

All conversation ceased abruptly and everyone turned when Neville spoke that one, fateful word, "Malfoy?"

"Oh shit," Fell unbidden from the blonde Slytherin-turned-Gryffindor's lips as he realized what had happened. In the stress of the moment, he had allowed the charms concealing his identity to fall, revealing his true appearance. That would have been fine had only Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Evelyn and Artemis been in the room, but Neville was as well. That posed a problem. Artemis threw himself in front of his so-er, Draco, blocking him from the Gryffindor's ogling stare. From his sleeve he drew his wand, preparing to Obliviate the boy.

"No!" Draco cried, grasping the other's wrist and forcing the wand tip down and away.

"But, Draco, he knows," the Ancient Runes teacher reminded, eyes still trained on the trembling form. The blonde nodded.

"I know. Neville," He turned to face the other teenager, one he had counted among his new friends. He only hoped that would not change. "Please remain calm and allow me to explain. Why don't you have a seat?" The small Gryffindor planted himself in the nearest chair, an air of challenge replacing the previous shocked-beyond-belief feel.

"All right, explain, but I'm betting you can't top all the other surprises I've gotten today." It was spoken in a very un-Neville like tone. The blonde grinned weakly.

"Likely not. You've probably seen Hell freeze over and then thaw out again," he paused to draw a breath of preparation. "It all started several months ago when this golden phoenix named Arrigo came to visit me…." For the next half hour, Draco spoke in detail of how all had started and how he had reached this point. After the tale was complete, silence enveloped them as they waited for the boy's verdict. Neville pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit whenever he felt a headache approaching. Unbenounced to him, this particular gesture came from his father who would do the same when a migraine was setting in.

"All right. For the moment I believe you. That may change later, but at the moment," He pinched his nose again, laying against the chair's soft back, "I have other things to attend to."

"Neville?" Remus's voice, having no source they could identify, echoed through the room. "What are you still doing here? I thought you would be in the library by now." They turned to see Remus and Sirius 'appear' near the window. Both appeared outwardly calm except for the telltale redness around the ex-convict's eyes. As an answer, Neville waved a hand in Draco's direction. Understanding dawned in Remus while Sirius gawked openly.

"Malfoy?!" Draco winced and shook his head. Could anything else happen?

"Please, just Draco, or Aury, which ever you prefer," he requested.

"Though Aury in public, we can't have the Death Eaters' children after him. We have enough problems as it is," Artemis added, placing an arm around the boy's shoulders. The blonde Gryffindor smiled his thanks which the professor returned. Remus clapped his hands together.

"Well, now that, that has been cleared up, we better get started. Neville, you have the pass to the library, perhaps you had better take someone with you," the werewolf suggested. At this, Evie and Hermione stood as one.

"We'll go." The Defense teacher nodded in approval.

"We'll have to keep watch over them so I suggest shifts. Sirius, why not you first?" Black nodded. "Ron and Ginny, take over during lunch and through my class. I won't be there but whom ever's watching it I'll tell you are working with me." The students nodded and dispersed. They all had jobs to do and they would do them.

***

(Sev's Dream)

Severus laid down the parchment in disgust. Immediately upon touching the desk it curled into a pile of ashes. There was no more need for its continued existence, that would only jeopardize his role. For years he had built up to this but if he moved even a fraction of a second too soon, then all of his hard work would be down the proverbial drain and he would be in Azkaban faster than you could say Firebolt. But his Master trusted him and his judgement, only now Voldemort was becoming impatient. Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose. To him, that had always been a failing of his Master, the man's lack of patience. But if he so wished, he thought as he reached for a bottle of clear liquid, then so be it.

"Hello, Father. Hello, my child," The Potions Master greeted jovially, kissing the top of Harry's head and allowed Albus to do the same to him. Such actions of affection made his skin crawl but he endured it; it was his duty. They, of course, had no idea what he truly was, they only saw him as they and he wanted them to. He was playing the triple-crosser, the ultimate spy. It was a task 'he' would intrust to no other and that fact sent a surge of great pride through his black heart. He would not fail the man, never fail him.

"Hello, child, how are you feeling?" The Headmaster asked, blue eyes twinkling merrily. Severus smiled in return, taking the chair by the roaring fire. The act fell carefully into place.

"I am a bit hungry but otherwise well." This elicted a smile from both as the Headmaster tugged at the bell pull.

"That can be easily remedied," he said amibiacally as Dobby appeared. The energetic elf bounced away with the order. Pleasant silence fell over them until the banquet appeared on the poor wooden table that groaned under the weight. Fixing a happy smile upon his face, he slid his chair closer, preparing to dig in. As they did so as well, a crystal bottle flashed briefly and neither Harry nor Albus noticed.

***

A feral grin crossed the Potions Master's face as both Headmaster and student slumped into unconsciousness. Sleeping Draft. Simply, tasteless and highly effective. The tow would never know what had happened. Drawing out his wand, his smile flickered maliciously and the orange light from the fire danced in his eyes. Just a spell here and one there. Transfiguring humans was the single most dangerous of the transfiguration acts but Severus was confident and soon he was leaving the school, fitted with a new bracelet and necklace.

***

A quick trip through the halls of Hogwarts and to the overgrown paths of the Forbidden Forest, he was well on his way. Once outside the boundaries of the school's wards, he apparated, and found himself at the steps of Riddle Manor. The guards at the door parted in respect, familiar with the man's appearance. Of course, he had taught them while they had attended Hogwarts, adding another level of respect. They knew he could be cruel and ruthless, though they had never suffered through its extremes. Both hoped they never would. Up a spiral staircase, his steps leaving tracks in the thick layer of dust that coated the way. Another set of guards stood like stones at the entrance to his destination. They, too, needed little prompting and silently moved from the dark floating form. At his approach, the door creaked open as though it too recognized him. The room he entered was dim, the primary light source provided by the fireplace which had been enchanted to burn green as though by Floo. It cast a distinctly eerie (and Slytherin) hue on the atmosphere but Severus was far too used to it for it to effect him. Indeed, he found it calming. For a first time visitor, it could be a devastating blow to confidence, which was exactly what the man seated in the wing-backed chair intended.

With two strides he stood at the chair's front and gave a sweeping bow. Voldemort demanded the utmost respect from all of his servants, and such actions signified this. It could be frightfully embarrassing at times but Severus had learned to deal with the man's idiosyncracies. If you were the most powerful wizard of all time, you could afford such things.

*NO!* A voice within him cried. *He is not the most powerful. He never was, he....* Severus banished the voice and focused his attention on the situation at hand.

"My, Severus, you have impeccable taste in jewelry. Did you complete your task?" The Potions Master gave a brief jerk of his head, a nod, and placed his new accessories on the rub before the fire. Nagini hissed in anger as she was displaced and Severus drew out his wand. Before he could cast the spell, Voldemort held up his hand.

"Allow me, Severus." One wave and the two items resumed their natural forms. The green light, Severus reflected, matched the color of Harry's eyes. Albus's white beard was like dyed green cotton. Neither woke. The Dark Lord's sinister smile of satisfaction was like none the other man had ever seen. It was only then did he realize the depth of hatred that his master felt for his two soon to be victims. It sparked a small horror within his chest and he was even obliged to feel just a bit of pity for both....but just a bit. It was a feeling that had surfaced before during Voldemort's many torture sessions, but it depended upon the person. Lucius, for example, was in his opinion, better off in Azkaban than in the Dark Lord's service. Severus took a seat in the chair opposite the Dark Lord as the man waved his wand again. A slight groan issued from both as they stirred. Harry's eyes cracked open, darting around the room. Recognition was immediate.

"No." Voldemort smiled.

"Yes, Harry." Emerald green first met red before locking with obsidian.

"Father?" It was questioning, hinting uncertainty and the tiniest dash of suspicion. Well, the boy should be, he'd just been kidnaped after all. In answer to the boy's question, he smiled. There was no love, or caring, or sympathy, merely malice. The Potions Master could just imagine what the Dark Lord had planned for these two. Chains, perhaps? Those he would place on Albus, he was certain of it. Voldemort was known fro his fondness of medieval torture devices. Severus knew for a fact that his master possessed an Iron Maiden some where deep in the dungeons below the manor. Voldemort would likely deem death by those numerous iron spikes too good for the two for it presented a quick, if painful death. Though he wanted it to be painful, Voldemort would likely draw the pair's torture out as long as possible before finally releasing them into Death's grip. One or two years perhaps? By then they would have lost the appeal to be, as Voldemort once phrased it, "played with". Severus estimated his 'son' would be strapped to the rack to be stretched. It was the Dark Lord's favorite 'toy' and one that would be applied to the only person that had caused the man more grief than Albus Dumbledore. Potter.

*NO! He's Harry! For God's sake, if you have any conscious at all, you'll stop this now!* The Potions Master blinked and shook his head to clear away the heavy fog that had descended upon his mind. It would not leave, making it increasingly difficult for his thoughts to process. He could hear his name being called out but it was distant and drowned out by the voice within him.

*This is not real, Severus, you idiot! Wake up! Wake up!......* Another sound replaced the distant calling. It now was echoing the words within.

"Severus, wake up! Wake up!" The world cut out.

***

"Wake up!" Obsidian eyes flew open and he sat up, panting. "Finally, I thought I was going to have to resort to dumping ice water on you. Tell me, Severus, what were you dreaming of that made you scream so?" For a moment the Potions Master did not speak but inhaled deeply, waiting for reality to reinstate itself. When everything seemed to be back in order, he turned. In a chair, beside the bed he was on, was Lucius. That sent a jolt through him. This couldn't be right, why in hell would the elder Malfoy come any where near him, let alone seem concerned? His vocal cords refused to cooperate and all he could form was, "Lucius?" What the hell was Lucius doing here? The last he had heard the man had become a political recluse. His sighting in public was rare. What was going on? The blonde nodded, concern flickering in those slate gray eyes. Wait, concern? Perhaps he was going insane, or had the dream world of love and happiness been just that, a dream?

"Why?" Why was he here? Why was Lucius here? Why was he not with Albus and Harry? He wanted to be with them. Why was nothing making sense? The Death Eater seemed pleased he'd asked a question, any question.

"Your potion experiment went awry, don't you remember? For the past week, you've been raving about animagi, phoenixes, Potter, Dumbledore and something called the Trinity." Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Quite a fuss you've raised around here. Our Master has been most worried. But he would be about one his top Death Eaters, spy and Potions Master falls ill," Again the concern, which Severus found nauseating, "You are all right, aren't you, Severus?" The dark haired man did not immediately answer for his head was reeling with the information.

First to hit was the reality of the emotions from the other man. He was truly concerned, as though Severus were one of his closest friends. While that may have been true at one time, the concept now made him want to inwardly gag and outwardly sneer. He could do neither. Next were the man's words. Experiment? What experiment? When he had returned to spy on Voldemort, the Dark Lord had not ordered him to perform such a task.

^Spy on Voldemort?^ A part of him wondered, ^Why would I do that? I spy on Dumbledore.^

*That's not true.* Another part voiced loudly. Had the first voice had a body, the Potions Master was certain it would have put its hands on its hips.

^Of course it's true, I am a loyal Death eater.^ The second voice puffed up in anger.

*Never! I would never serve that bastard!*

^Yes I would!^

*No I wouldn't!*

^Yes I would!^

*No I wouldn't!* The bickering continued and Severus could feel a migraine approaching. Brought on, no doubt, by him arguing with himself and the potion he had supposedly consumed. Determined to find out what was happening to him before he was consumed by the massive headache, he detached a third part of him mind (as the other two were still bickering! No, he did not have multiple personalties, he just knew how to multi-task.) and continued his examination. Phoenixes, animagi, Potter, Dumbledore and the Trinity? While earlier they had seemed to hold a certain significance, what that was now escaped his comprehension. Dully he stared at his hands and with a silent cry of surprise, he suddenly realized what was wrong. His Trinity mark was gone! It had become such a part of him that he normally ignored it but he could not ignore the fact that it was missing. Reaching for his neck, he encountered another surprise. The silver bumblebee, it was no longer there! He knew that was wrong, for what ever else he didn't know, he knew that for certain.

"Severus, are you all right? You seem awfully pale," Lucius remarked. Eyes, now filled with a strange black fire, burned into the other.

"This isn't real and I want out, now."

(End of Sev's Dream)

***

The fourth day of our exile and I am beginning to give into the monster. No, not Voldemort, the other monster, depression. It is a vile creature, different for each person it attacks yet the same in its effects. You know, it is strange. I am a healer and have treated others for depression before but I can't seem to help myself. The old proverb "Healer, heal thyself" comes to mind at times like this. Kit and I suffer together, as one. There are occasional drawbacks to being a twin and therefore connected. Our pain is doubled by the burden of the other's. We know the cause which is always the first step of treatment. Voldemort. Normally, the next step would be to deal with the cause as such. Unfortunately, that is a bit to of a problem. There are ways that I would like to deal with him. A favorite of Kit's comes to mind that she mentioned not long ago. One she got from Albus. I believe it involves, hot coals in the stomach. Interesting idea that one.

But I am avoiding the real subject, my worry over my love. For days, ever since we arrived, I have felt nothing from him. Severus and I have always had some sort of spiritual bond, ever since we met in our first year. It was as though, we always knew what the other was feeling and almost thinking at times. But now.....nothing. Just an empty void. An empty, heavy void. Severus, where are you?

A hand fell on her shoulder and she immediately snapped the book shut.

"Am I not allowed to read?" the hissing voice, though attempting to sound offended, came through as pleased. A sneer that would have made Severus proud settled across the healer's face and she jerked away. There was no doubt as to who it was. Voldemort. He loved being in control of the situation and the people within it. Though Seri hated to admit it, he was, at the moment. There was nothing either her sister or she could do about it. Commanding herself firmly not to flinch, she glared at the Dark Lord fiercely. He did not appear unfazed by the chilling glare and seated himself in the chair beside her's, carefully arranging himself before turning the hungry gaze on her. Though maintaining her glare, Seri felt herself beginning to shake but refused to look away. If she was to remain here, she would make her contempt for him and all he did obvious.

Unfortunately, he also made it obvious what he wanted out of her. Thank Merlin that he had not full-filled his earlier threat. As the red eyes traveled over her, taking in every curve and bit of exposed skin in his view, Seri blushed crimson. Her body was encased in an emerald green dress. The top of which hugged her body and flared at the hips. Sleeves widening as in the style of old and all trimmed in silver. The top was wide and dipped low, lower than what she would have liked. The majority of Riddle's "mark of ownership" as he'd phrased it was exposed, now a thin red scar. She detested it and had attempted several times to be rid of it, but to no avail. She was certain there was only one who could remove it and he was currently at Hogwarts in God only knew what kind of state thanks to that poison. Severus. Thoughts of her love welled up and she had to fight mightily to stave off the threatening tears. Soft smile, twinkling eyes, tender lips, oh Merlin, why had she not known earlier? No, that is a lie, she had known, since the moment he had called her to the hospital wing to help Harry. Though outwardly cold and semi-evil, she had sensed the old Severus, the one she had known, underneath that wall of ice. Now that that Severus was back they were separated and in danger. What did Fate have against them?

"I hope you are enjoying your stay here, my Intended. I know your sister is most pleased." The healer barely managed to contain a snort at this. 'Most pleased' was if they as far away from the manor and that man as possible. Or at least find some way to send him to Antarctica. A sudden image of Voldemort in ice up to his waist with three heads flared within her mind. She could just imagine: Lucius Malfoy in the mouth of the left, Cornelius Fudge in the center and Peter Pettigrew on the right. Perfect. Eternity in the fires (or in this case ice!) of the underworld, fitting end to all, if only it were true. As she thought of her sister, Albus, Severus and harry a small smile graced her lips. Perhaps it would become a reality. The Dark Lord, of course, mis-interpreted the expression, thinking it one of satisfaction. He intertwined his long fingers with the lush golden locks. Oh, he intended to show her satisfaction beyond anything she had ever known in her life. The slight tug of her hair pulled Seri from her thoughts of revenge and she leapt from her chair, clutching her journal close to her chest. Her fury was plain, how dare he touch her! The sheer nerve and audacity! Now she knew for certain she was going to use those hot coals. Anger darkened those reptilian red eyes for a brief moment before it passed. Abruptly he stood.

"Expect me to come within the next week, we will be together then." Words spoken, he swept from the room. The healer sank back into her chair and cover ed her face. Oh Merlin, now what were they going to do?

***

Silverhoof moved dejectedly through the thick overgrowth, head to the ground, nostrils flared and ears pricked. For days it seemed, she had searched for her sibling but to no avail. It was though he and his band (plus her's) had dropped off the face of the Earth. Night had fallen hours before and she was becoming desperate, what if he had moved? Out of the Forbidden Forest, permanently? She could not spend her time roaming all over Great Britain searching for him. Time was a precious commodity and she intended to use it wisely. Still, the thought of his sudden 'disappearance' disturbed her. No, he would not leave at a time like this. There was much at stake, one thing being the safety of his foals (Seri and Kit). She knew her brother would not abandon them, they meant too much to him. Of course, when she said brother, she meant it in the spiritual sense. She had been the sole survivor when her band had been destroyed when she was only a small foal. Shaken and over come with grief, she would have perished had it not been for Windchaser's father, Thunderstorm.

Unlike most Barice unicorns, this male stallion had not lost the silver-gray coat of his youth. Coupled with patches of black and varying shades of gray, he'd resembled a prancing thunderstorm. The stallion had taken her in, not only into his herd but personal family. The only blood that had she and Windchaser shared was the blood that they had shed defending one another's back. When Thunderstorm had fallen under the sword of a human, Windchaser had moved to take his place as head of the band. Many had challenged his claim but he had defeated them all. Now she couldn't find them. She had attempted mind calling several times but had received no response, leading her to wonder if she had not severed that tie by becoming human. It was possible, highly possible. She wasn't sure if that was supposed to frighten her or not.

As it neared midnight she paused at a stream to drink her fill before moving on. Raising her oblong head, she froze as dark green eyes pinned her in their sights. With an exalted cry, she splashed forward, nuzzling her brother's cheek. He returned the gesture and whinnied a question. As they made their way back, she explained. From the battle in the woods to the waking up in Albus's bed. Joy of being human, despair of abandoning her old life. To the dance on All Hallow's Eve and the current situation. Ears forward, his complete attention was on her. She had just rounded out the tale when they arrived at their destination. The stallion's gaze shifted from her to the band as they grazed, snoozed or played.

~While there is nothing I can do for your soul-bonded, foal and grandfoal, I can go after Serenity and Kitiara. We will take some of our strongest and go. The group must be small or we will surely be detected. Our magic is more wild than that of humans and much easier to detect when in large quantities. Do you agree?~ She nodded.

~We must be swift, I do not wish to see them harmed.~ Her tone darkened. ~Considering their current location, that is a distinct possibility.~ With a sharp whistle, five unicorns, two mares and three stallions cantered over. His explanation was brief and to the point, but they all understood. As they began to make their long journey, Silverhoof gazed up into the night sky. Clouds lay heavy and only one star shone through.

~Hold on, everyone, we'll get them out.~

***

Albus winced as the meager light of the room pierced though his eyelids and into his skull. With a low groan, he tried to shield his eyes with his arm but it did not respond to his commands. His sluggish brain identified why: he remembered taking a potion. That had to be the reason. There was even the after taste of it in his too dry mouth. A shadow moved to block the offensive light.

"Albus?" It was Minerva. "Albus, how are you feeling?" Stupid question that one. How did she think he felt?

"Like I've fallen from a broom that was over a hundred feet in the air," he replied thickly. The transfiguration teacher clucked sympathetically and the Headmaster suddenly found something pressed to his lips.

"Drink this, you'll feel better, I promise." He obliged and greedily took in the lemony liquid. Sweet and refreshing.

***

McGonagall's head whipped around as her feline sensitive ears picked up the distant 'thump thump' of feet approaching. Lupin. Once the Headmaster had taken what he could she froze the rest the rest and stashed it inside her cloak, standing quickly. Drawing her wand, she twirled it over him a bit, whispering a sleeping spell. It may have not been powerful but it did not have to be to put the man under. Dashing to the door, she pressed her ear to the door and discovered she still had time. Pushing open the door she hid in the other room, waiting for the Defense professor to pass. The steps were slow and dragging as she moved past her hiding place. Once she was certain it was safe, she transformed into a cat and scampered down the stairs to safety.

***

Several hours later found Remus still seated in the chair beside the sick bed. It was not even remotely close to the full moon yet he looked as though it was. Sleep to him had become a foreign concept. The Headmaster moaned and turned his side. The werewolf was used to the man's movements by now and ignored it. There was nothing they could do to make Albus anymore comfortable, it simply seemed to cause him more discomfort. This time, however, something made him look twice. Sweat on the brow? Pale as a ghost? A hand over the forehead revealed the high fever. Remus cursed.

"Damn it, not him too." Leaping to his feet, he raced down the stairs, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"It's happened again!"

***

Two days later the research at Hogwarts had yielded nothing. They were certain now, the Headmaster had been poisoned. By who was still a question. The man had not awoken since Remus had made the discovery. Harry, who had been under its influence five days, was still as death now, skin pale and drawn painfully tight over his face. The black hair had lost all its luster and splayed limply over his pillow. Eyes sunk back into his skull. From beneath the sheet snaked a tube connecting to a feeding tube. That and the IV attached to his arm were the only things that made noise in the room.

Beside him was Severus. The man had ceased to come out of his nightmare/dream state the day before. When he had before, then he had been fed, but now he had his own IV and feeding tube as his son beside him did. McGonagall had not wanted to bring anyone from outside the school. To do so would expose their problems to the rest of the world. Remus had gone over her head and had asked medi-witches and wizards from St. Mungo's to come. When they had arrived, it was to find the Defense professor and the Headmistress pro-tem in a heated argument in the middle of a corridor, surrounded by students. Some of which were making bets as to who would win. It had been Draco and Ron who had guided the confused doctors to their patients. After a brief explanation and exam, they had attached the machines (these fed off magic) to the two forms. It now looked as though Albus would be next for this treatment.

Tensions were mounting, it was only a matter of time before they broke. It did just that around noon on Thursday.

"Merlin's scraggly beard! I'm so tired of this!" Ron suddenly exploded, throwing the large tome across the room. Without looking up, Draco held up his hand and the book stopped, floating to him. This new little power had been revealed the day before when Remus had informed them of what had happened. The emotions following the announcement had been swift and strong. Anger and bitterness. With the anger came power, the bitterness eroding his restraints. There was no precise term to describe what had happened to him next. The closest you could come would be by saying he had exploded, but even that was not totally accurate. It was as though everything that was and had happened had finally sank in. When it did, it touched something deep within him, releasing it. Power of untold magnitude surged to the surface and he, not prepared for it, allowed it to pour out of him. Fortunately everyone had vacated the room only moments before or he would have feared for their lives. The rom had been all but decimated; wooden furniture reduced to splinters, books now mere confetti and any fabric ripped to fine shreds. The others had rushed back in to find him in the center of the destruction. After his shock had worn off, all he'd been able to do was grin sheepishly, shrug his shoulders and say, "Oops."

He'd been pulled from research after that to be given a few lessons in the hopes he would be able to contain his wandless magic. It was only a temporary solution until the Trinity could be awoken. They would be the best teachers for this type of gift as they all had it. At Ron's exclamation, Hermione glanced at the clock.

"It is nearing lunch anyhow. Why don't we stop and take a break?" The proposal was met with silent but unanimous agreement. Places marked, books were closed and set aside. Having remained in the same spots for many hours, most stood and stretched stiff muscles. Before any of them could even reach for the bell pull, Winky appeared with their food. As she sat it on the table, they thanked her profusely. The little elf bowed and popped out. Not heeding table manners, they grabbed what they could and settled back into their spots. It was quiet except for the sounds of eating. It was that way often now, as though the mere chore of making conversation was too difficult. That was true, for they all had their minds focused elsewhere. Draco: whether or not his mother leopard would return. Neville: could this all be really happening? Ginny: if perhaps she was not doing enough to help. Hermione: on the next prospective book to look through. Ron: was this actually going to be enough to save their friends? Evie on the other hand....

"Ron?" The red-haired male glanced up from where he was inhaling his sandwich.

"Yesh?" He managed with his mouth full. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered something about men and lack of table manners. Evelyn ignored her comment and went on.

"Is Harry an animagus?" It was then she thanked her lucky stars that she was not seated across from him for food went flying from his mouth as he sputtered. Beside him, Hermione choked on her pumpkin juice and Ginny absentmindedly patted her on the back. Neville glanced back and forth between the three Gryffindors and Ravenclaw in confusion. Draco, who, to his dismay, had been sitting across from Ron, wiped the chewed food and spit from his face, look of disgust plain.

"Wh-what?"

"An animagus or animagi, is Harry one?" Evelyn pushed, wanting an answer. The three Gryffindors (Ron, Hermione and Ginny) traded glances. Should they tell the Ravenclaw the truth? It would also mean revealing the secret to Neville. Finally they turned to Draco, who'd performed a cleaning charm on himself, for consultation. He nodded. It was what the mage would want and likely would have done himself had not he fallen ill.

"Yes," Ron answered, though hesitantly, not sure of the origin of this question. A small smile formed on the girl's lips and she began digging furiously through her bag. After a few moments she seemed to have located her quarry and drew from the satchel a black, leather-bound book. Untying the leather strap fastenings, she flipped through the pages, again searching. What that was became apparent when she held up the book for them to view.

"This wouldn't happen to be him, would it?" The other five leaned close. It was a color pencil drawing and a very good one at that. There was no mistaking the creature was a phoenix, an enormous one at that. The wings were in a downward sweeping position, displaying their full length. Sparkles trailed the tail which seemed to go on for ever. The body was extended to its full length as well as the neck. Emerald eyes sone like priceless gems. Though they appeared to be looking off into the distance, they would fall you where ever you went. Feathers: gleaming gold, flaming red, black as night. It gave an over all impression of seeming to leap from the mundane page it was trapped on. Draco touched the white around the head, not daring to disturb the inner portion.

"Just like him," he whispered. The other three nodded but Neville gasped.

"That's the creature I sometimes see at night." The other four glanced at him while Evie nodded.

"I as well," She closed the book and placed it back in her satchel, "That's how I was able to draw that. It took me several nights," She tapped her chin as a sudden thought struck her, "Normally he's not alone. I frequently see a silver and white phoenix with him. Even two cats."

"Professor Snape and the Headmaster," Ginny supplied, "The cats are the twins." The Ravenclaw reclined back in her chair, golden eyes closing in deep thought. It certainly added and explained a great deal of the peculiar happenings. If they were three phoenixes, could they be the Trinity of the Phoenix that she'd heard so much about? All right, in truth, she'd read everything about it. When first she'd come across it, it had spiked her curiosity enough to pursue it. If anything, Evelyn Elwood could say she was persistent. Staying with something to its bitter end was her way.

If this was true, it would explain even more. One of the major unspoken subjects in her relationship with Harry was how he seemed to know things before hand, especially concerning Severus and Albus. Where they were, what they were doing, how they were feeling, he knew; it all made perfect sense. If they were the Trinity of the Phoenix, they would have some sort of mental bond. Wondering if the others realized or remembered this, she phrased her next comment carefully.

"So that's why Harry and the Headmaster reacted they way they did." It was an off-hand remark, meant to garner a response. It did.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Draco in unison. Neville through up his hands.

"I wish someone would tell me something!" he exclaimed in complete exasperation. Putting the Ravenclaw's explanation on hold, the other four Gryffindors took turns on bringing their house-mate up to speed. Fifteen minutes later, after he'd been give a rough sketch of recent and not-so-recent events, Neville shook his head.

"Does Harry ever catch a break?" He shook his head again. "No, don't answer that, I already know. But none of this explains why the Headmaster reacted the way he did."

"Of course it does," Evelyn cut it, "they are bonded together. Essentially, they share one mind." Hermione's eyes widened.

"That's right, I remember now. They have some kind of bond where they share thoughts and emotions." She paused for a moment and Ron picked up.

"Probably why they were able to hold together even when the Potions Master was poisoned. Now," he shook his head, "they're just overwhelmed." Silence fell over them a moment as they processed all they had discovered. Neville was the first to break it.

"Well, we can't help them by sitting here and doing nothing. We need to find the Decayendo Rosa. That's the key to curing Harry and the Headmaster." Ron suddenly growled, throwing another book on the table.

"We've looked everywhere and found nothing!" Draco, frowning at the other's treatment of a book, rescued it and glanced at the page it was open to. He had to glance twice to register what he'd seen.

"I've found it." Hermione and Ron, who had been bickering, fell silent. Neville laid his sandwich down and took the book from the other. After scanning only a few lines, the brown haired Gryffindor smiled.

"You're right, here it is." As though he'd shouted he was giving out free chocolate, the others crowded around him, waiting expectantly. Clearing his throat, he read aloud.

"The Dacayendo Rosa or Decaying Rose originated in Spain before being transported to Mexico by colonists where it flourished in the warm climate. Characterized by a distinct red color with rotting black tips, it gives off a surprisingly fragrant sent that will paralyze any one or thing within a one kilometer radius. The more there are, the stronger the effect. Once it's victims have been immobilized, the Decaying Rose will uproot itself and search for its food. When found, the victim, usually some small mammal, will be dissolved by enzymes excreted from the plant's roots. It will settle over it and stay for many weeks as the animal flesh is broken down and taken in through the roots. Once all is done, the Rose remains until it finds its next victim. When it moves, all that is left behind is the pelt of the animal.

However deadly this plant may be, its roots, petals, leaves and pollen are vital ingredients in several antidotes, namely Tritian potion. In order to for the brewer to harvest this, he or she must wear a mask and as an extra precaution, drink an anti-paralyzation potion before hand. Because of its strong roots, the gatherer must trick the plant into uprooting then sever the stem. This must be done after it has uprooted otherwise the roots will escape and you will lose this valuable commodity. Place a Freezing charm on the roots to prevent their escape and suspend the rest. You do not want to damage the pollen or leaves.

The flower can be found in several large forests over Britain where there is plentiful prey. As it adapted to the much colder and damp environment, the Decaying Rose turned blue.

Neville stopped and the others drew back.

"All this trouble over a smelly plant, why can't we just go to the apothecary in Hogsmeade and get the parts we need?" Ron groused. The other five rolled their eyes and Hermione spoke up.

"Because, Ron, if you'd been listening at all to what Neville has been saying, you would know. Draco told us about Mr. Stone."

"And the fact that's he's a Death Eater," Draco added darkly.

"Exactly. We've also determined that whoever did poison Harry had to have gotten the ingredients from him. If we went asking for a part to the antidote, don't you think he might be inclined to tell that person?" The girl was in full swing now and the others say no reason to stop her. In fact, they were sitting back, enjoying the show. There was so little amusement these days. Of course, they were silent. They did not wish her to turn on them.

"Uh....." Ron stuttered, not given the time to formulate a proper argument as the brown-haired girl blazed on.

"Furthermore we have already determined that it must be one the professors. Of course," she turned sarcastic, "we could just go up to each and ask politely which one is trying to kill their student and Headmaster, I'm sure that would go over well." The red haired male clamped a hand over her mouth, preventing her from continuing.

"Yes, Hermione, you are right, I'm sorry. It must just be stress. Please, calm down, all right?" His simple words of apology penetrated her resistance and crumbled her resolve, making her suddenly leap into his arms.

"I-I'm s-sorry! I-I, I'm j-just so tired, I-I w-wish this would all e-end and the-things would be n-normal again," she sobbed into his black robe shamelessly. Instead of acting awkwardly as he had in the past, he held her tight and spoke quietly in her ear. The others politely pretended not to be watching. Tears spent, the girl hiccuped and Ron stroked her hair.

"I know things are rough right now and you want them to be normal but answer this, Herm, when have they ever been normal around here?" This earned him a weak chuckle. "That's what I thought. We've had tough times before but haven't we always pulled through?" Small nod. "Then you have to believe we will this time. Do you?" Another small nod. He smiled and kissed her forehead. "That's my girl. Why don't you get some sleep?" Before he had finished, however, she was already in a deep slumber, still clutching his robes. Gathering her fully into his arms, he stood and excused himself. Before he was completely out the door, he turned back.

"Why don't you guys go ahead and go after the Decaying Rose. I think I better stay here and watch over her." The other four nodded and he smiled sadly, his eyes returning to the sleeping form within his arms.

"We're going to help them, Mione, no matter what."

***

Artemis collapsed into his chair as his students leaked slowly out of the room. Running a hand through his brown mop, he opened one of the drawers of his desk and drew a drawing pad from its depth. It was an old pad, one that had clearly seen better days. Idly flipping through the pages, pausing to smile at some and quietly chuckle at others, he finally settled on one. It was of Kit.

He remembered drawing this. Yes, he did draw, it was one of his numerous hobbies. Most of the pad was filled with scenes from their days in school. They depicted scenes of everything from tranquility, such as Severus and Seri sitting together beside the lake, to insanity, such as Sirius's hair being a bouquet of flowers. That one in particular sparked a good memory. Sirius had pulled a rather embarrassing prank on both twins and Severus and he had teamed together to get him back. Add to the fact that he had to use fertilizer instead of shampoo for a week, all he could do when he opened his mouth was sing "Tiptoe through the Tulips" That, of course, had embarrassed the hell out of him and it had been several months before he'd been even willing to consider pulling a prank on the girls.

This sketch was much more recent, only done a few days before Halloween. Set in the Hospital Wing, Kit was leaning over her mini potions lab. It was there that he had been able to capture the sparkle in her eye, the one he adored so. The light from an unknown source fell upon her hair, bringing out its chocolate and honey tones. Her blue eyes seemed to hold every shade of blue there was as they gazed at the beaker of green liquid with rapt attention.

Merlin's beard, it sounded as though he was in love. A fact he could not deny. Why had he never told? Scared to really. One definite trait he and Severus shared and that was the fact neither of them could confront the one they loved most. Sad, but true. Now that she was gone from his grasp, he wanted her back more than anything. He'd promised himself, when this all began, that if by some miracle she were to come back in one piece, he would confess his love for her. Damn, why hadn't he before?

Oh, he knew why. How he'd ever become a Gryffindor was beyond him. He was the biggest coward he knew when it came to certain things. Kit being one of them.

He was glad she loved Draco, he cared for the boy too. What a lovely little family they would make. Would have made. Damn, now he was thinking in the past tense, he obviously needed sleep. But a glance at the hourglass on his desk told him that there wasn't time, it was his turn to watch the Hogwarts's Three. With a weary sigh, he closed the drawing pad and replaced it in its place, closing the drawer. One day, he promised himself as he headed out the door, he would make her his own, if she would have him.

***

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Head of the Order of the Phoenix, Light mage of the Trinity of the Phoenix felt as though he'd lost one too many battles with the Whomping Willow. Or been in a wrestling match with a werewolf. Or picked a fight with a mountain troll. Or decided to skydive without a parachute. How did he know about skydiving? Happened to be something Arthur Weasley told him about recently.

Needless to say, he did not feel in the best of shape and for the life of him, could not figure out why. His memory was beginning to fail him in his old age. Then, like a flash of insight, he remembered. The lemonade. Poison. Minerva. If Minerva poisoned him, he was willing to bet his entire fortune that she had done the same to Harry.

Albus Dumbledore was known for his kindness and gentleness, his willingness to give others a second chance. This, however, was inexcusable, and he would make her answer for her actions. No one, but perhaps Severus and Harry, had ever seen him truly angry. Now he was, and intended to let her know. Pushing the heavy covers aside, he slowly sat up. Dizziness immediately swamped his sensed and he had to cling to the bedpost for support. Fawkes was beside him in an instant, pleading with him to lie back down. He did not shake his head, that would have made things worse and merely replied that he could and would not. Pulling himself to a standing position, he apparated.

***

It was lunch time at the school and the students and teachers were eating quietly in the Great Hall. A somber atmosphere had possessed the school ever since the announcement of the Potions Master's illness and had declined further upon the discovery of Harry and the Headmaster's poisoning. Many of the students felt unsafe without the calm and reassuring presence of the man with the flowing white beard seated at the high table.

The staff table had gathered a dark, brooding cloud around it and no one dared approach any longer. Hagrid, Remus, and Artemis had long ago stopped coming to eat there, Hagrid off on a mission for the Order not but a few days before. Remus and Artemis taken their food where ever they happened to be, if they had time to eat. The Hall would be anywhere from mildly noisy to deathly silent. The latter was the case now when out of no where, the Headmaster appeared at the entrance. There was a collective gasp as they saw him. He was a ghost of the person they knew with the twinkling cerulean blue eyes, auburn streaked white hair and beard. The one that exuded a calm sense of power and authority. All was gone. Auburn had faded, the hair was thin and tangled. Cerulean blue eyes held no twinkle, they were looking upon the shadows of death. Calm power and authority was replaced by raw magical energy fueled by anger. Everyone held there breath, waiting for him to make the first move. He raised a finger, pointing it at the staff table.

"It was you," Raspy, yet still it possessed rock solid certainty, "You did this to all of us. Why? How could you, Minerva?" The students turned collectively to look at the woman seated in the Headmaster's chair. She stiffened at her name but remained tight-lipped as a clam. One step, a stumble, but he regained his balance by grabbing the Gryffindor table. Students cringed from him as though he were some slimy, rotting, half-dead creature. He did look like death warmed up. He took no notice of their reactions, his thoughts solely focused on the black-haired woman. Get to her, take another step, he commanded himself. Only a few feet. He had to reach her. But the space between them seemed to lengthen as his vision tunneled. Remaining upright for so long had been too draining. He fell to his knees, haunted blue eyes trained on the Transfiguration professor.

"It was you," The accusation was like a bee sting, "It was you." Eyes falling closed, his body gave a great shudder and collapsed completely, his world winking out. As it did, the door burst open.

"Albus?!"

***

When Fawkes saw his master disappear, he felt a deep panic settle over him. The other humans had not come to watch as they now did often and he did not know when they would come again. It was imperative that he find one, now. Deciding that was his best course of action, he spread his wings, performing a disappearing act of his own.

***

Artemis had nearly come upon his destination when he spotted the Headmaster's pet phoenix heading speedily in his direction.

"Fawkes?" The bird put on the breaks and began screeching loudly.

~Albus! It's Albus, you must help him, please!~

"Whoa, slow down, what is it?" The bird hardly paused a moment before beginning his insistent calling again.

~Are you deaf, human? I said, help Albus! Please, you must hurry!~ There was one problem the old phoenix seemed to have forgotten, having become used to talking to humans, this one did not have the gift. This, then, hardly made the matter clearer and the Ancient Runes teacher did the only thing he could think of. He clamped a hand over the bird's beak. It gave him an angry glare but Artemis spoke.

"Is there something wrong with one of the three? Just nod or shake you head." The bird nodded. "Severus?" Shake. "Harry?" Another shake. "Albus. Damn, I've got to get up there." Before he could start towards the office, the phoenix grabbed his arm and tugged him in a different direction.

"You mean, he's not in the bedroom?" The phoenix shook his head.

"Then do you know where he is?" Fawkes rolled his dark eyes, muttering under his breath.

~Of course, human, I'm his familiar, how could I not?~ Artemis, thankfully, didn't understand this or he likely would have hit the bird over the head. It became apparent before long where they were going and he raced ahead. When he burst into the Great Hall, it was to find a deathly silent room, and one unconscious mage.

"Albus?!" He fell to his knees beside the still form and placed two fingers on the Headmaster's neck. To his relief, he found a weak and erratic, but still present pulse. Gathering the thin man in his arms, he left the Hall, Fawkes in tow, cooing worriedly at his master even though he knew the man would and could not answer. When the door clicked shut behind them, pandemonium took control. Many older students, believing what the Headmaster had said and being extremely fond of the grandfather-figure that he gave them, pulled their wands out and began to advance on the staff table. Before they could get too close, McGonagall nodded to her fellow professors.

"Obliviate!" They cried in unison, wands pointed in the direction of the student body. Blinding white light flooded the Hall, encompassing the entire student body. When it faded, all were staring around with dazed and decidedly confused expressions.

"No need to worry," McGonagall reassured from the front. "Just a Confundus Charm gone awry. Go back to eating, the disorientation will pass in time." The students, knowing no better, did as she instructed. As a gentle buzz of words fell over them, the teachers all but collapsed into the respective seats, trading glances between them. That had been too close, too close indeed. They could only hope now that the Headmaster would not be given the chance to tell what he knew.

***

"You sure you don't mind?" Kit asked her sister for the third time. Seri, ever the one of patience, raised her eyebrow and nodded. For the third time.

"No, I don't. There are many books there, it's not like I'm trying to keep you from them. Go ahead." She emphasized again when her sister opened her mouth to remark. "I. Don't. Mind." Having finally taken the hint for what it was, Kitiara began skimming through the vast number of volumes, awed by the fact that her sister had already read half of them. She had become bored of brewing the same potions repetitively and had come to beg reading material from her sibling. Seri had only been too happy to oblige and now she was searching through the eight thousand and some odd books. Curses: Light and Dark by Lancaster Deed. Ancient Rituals Long Since Forgotten by Arson Right. Ways of Old and New by Wesley Olds. None she could see sparked any interest. What a minute, here was one......

The one she pulled from the shelf was thin, though quite new and had no title whatsoever. What really intrigued her curiosity was the fact it carried no magical signature. Most wizarding books had traces of the magical makers or the people who had had them at one time or another, this one did not. In fact, it appeared to be some sort of journal. But who in the world would keep a journal here, besides her sister? Certainly not one of the Death Eaters, none of them lived here permanently except for Wormtail and besides, none of them seemed inclined towards writing. Perhaps it belonged to one of the former occupants of the manor, the Riddles. That theory also had holes. Voldemort despised the Riddles and had endeavored to clear the house of as much of their memory as possible. Almost none of the original furniture or artwork of any kind remained.

Then who could it possibly belong to?

"Seri," Her sister looked up, "have you read this yet?" Taking the volume from Kit's hand, the healer examined it closely. It appeared to be quite new, the royal purple and black cover showing no signs of wear of fading. She, like her sibling, deduced that it was a journal. It had to be muggle for it possessed no magic she could detect. Strange, all that kept it closed was a set of strong silver fastenings. There was an imprint in the metal that appeared to be the lock.

"I know I haven't and it's not one that I've seen before." She brushed her fingers over it, the metal cold beneath them. She had to open this, it was imperative that they see its contents. Why was a mystery, but deep within her she knew, this was important.

"I don't know how to open it....." Seri trailed off when she spotted the ring on her finger. That was the key! The snakes where the same. Knowing she could not take the ring off, she positioned the book so she could press it in. Carefully, so as not to dislodge the band from the impression, she turned the book. Click, click, click, snap! One of the fastenings popped off. Click, click, click, snap! The other followed. The book fell open in her lap, right in the middle. Tentatively, aware that her sister was peering over her shoulder, she began turning the parchment-like pages. It was completely full, each page she turned, with an elegant scrawl, describing raids, tortures, future plans and the protective wards that surrounded the manor. It was a journal all right, the Dark Lord's journal.

"I don't believe this," Kit whispered as her sister continued to work through the pages. Eyes the color of a dark forest met those the color of a twilight sky.

"Take a seat, we're going to be here a while." And Seri spoke true. For the next several hours the two healers read in relative silence, broken occasionally by a gasp of surprise or particularly colorful metaphor. It was near dinner before they finished.

"His journal, he left his journal in here," Seri shook her head. "Of all the stupidest, idiotic....." Kit snorted.

"That thing is more like a daily planner than journal." Any comment Seri was going to pose was cut short by the telltale 'pop' of the house-elf's entry. Or, should they say, > It was with great surprise that the two found the entire house-elf staff in Seri's personal study.

"Yes, uh, is there something we can do for you?" Kit asked uncertainly. Carrie held up her hand.

"Please, Misses, let us speak. You and your sister has shown us house-elves more kindness that we has ever known." Many of the creatures nodded their heads, eyes shining with affection for the two women. "We's would like to re-pay you some way." The healers exchanged dumbfounded looks and curious thoughts. What should they say? They had only done what they felt was right. They had not been looking for favors of any kind. Seri cleared her throat.

"That's very kind of you, truly it is, but it's not necessary...." The little elf held up her hand again and the woman stopped.

"We knows we can not offer much, but we has talked. We would likes to help you escape." Both were sure their mouths were hanging open as they gaped at the group like fish out of water. How else where they to react? They had thought of every possibility of escape and had come up with nothing. How on God's green Earth could these little creatures help them?

"How?" was all they could ask. Carrie, apparently pleased that they accepted their offer, came and perched on Kit's knee. Leaning forward, she adopted a conspiratal air.

"We's could lower the wards for you and you escape!" She exclaimed as if it were that simple. Kit and Seri looked at one another. Perhaps the little elf was forgetting one thing.

"Uh, Carrie, I don't mean to sound like a skeptic, but aren't you forgetting one very important thing?" The elf appeared confused. "Voldemort? He lives here, don't you think he will notice if the wards around the manor are suddenly dropped?" The elf shook her head.

"He is leaving, Misses, Friday. T.B. hears it." The large male elf nodded. "He plans on attacking Hogwarts and will take every Death Eater but two with him. Will be easy to get away." The last part of her words were lost on the twins. Hogwarts. He was going to attack Hogwarts! The staff, students, Albus, Severus, Harry, Draco and Artemis. They were all in danger. They had to warn them some how. Kit drew in a breath.

"All right, what do we have to do?" The elf grinned.

"Nothing, Misses! Leave everything to us house-elves." It was then she paused. "We only ask on thing in return, Misses." Seri gazed perplexed at the tiny female.

"What?" The elf squirmed uncomfortably. It was not in her nature to ask for anything, it was she who was supposed to give.

"We asks, we asks to go with you! We don't want to be here! But you would have to give us clothes to set us free." She hung her head as she finished, afraid, like her fellow servants, that she had asked too much. It was in there blood that they should spend their lives in servitude, not freedom. But to live here was unbearable, for all of them. Seri lifted Carrie's head.

"Of course, just give us the time to gather everything that we need and we'll give you the clothes. Does that sound fair?" Carrie, eyes shining with tears, hugged her fiercely around the neck. Kit soon received the same treatment.

"Thank you, Misses! Thank you!" The elves gathered in a gibbering circle around them, each insisting to give their gratitude separately. When they finally quieted, Kit cleared her throat.

"You better get back to work and I warn you, you must act normal, we do not wish to raise suspicion." The tiny creatures nodded their heads and popped away. The two stayed silent for a moment before Kit spoke again.

"Do you think this will work? It's three days away, the day Voldemort is supposed to come for us." Seri laid a hand over her sister's.

"It will, Kit, it will."

***

"I never want to do that again," Ginny proclaimed as the group entered the dungeon. Neville nodded at his fellow Gryffindor's comment.

"I totally agree," he added wholeheartedly. Draco merely snorted and Evelyn rolled her eyes while Sirius and Remus reserved comment. The six of them (Ginny, Neville, Draco, Evelyn, Remus and Sirius) had just come from gathering the Dacayendo Rosa from the Forbidden Forest. Using the Defense professor's and ex-convict's knowledge of the wooded area's layout, finding the plant had proven simple. Actually acquiring it was a whole other problem, one that had almost proven too great to overcome.

It had been Neville's experience in gathering plants and Draco and Evelyn's quickness with their wands that had saved them from losing the most valuable component and the one that they needed: the roots. Covered in dirt and aching in many places, they were nevertheless satisfied. They had succeeded. All that remained was to brew the potion: Remus, Evelyn and Neville's job. All the rest could do was sit back and wait.

"All right," The red-haired Ravenclaw began, "we need the Potions Master's steel cauldron and the three ingredients." Sirius moved towards the Slytherin's office.

"I'll get that." He disappeared through the door way.

"That leaves the ingredients," Evelyn continued, "First, the bezoar." From deep within her robe, Ginny drew a stone. It had a strange, brown-green coloration and appeared to be about the size of the girl's fist. She laid it with all the delicacy of lace upon the table. Surprisingly, they had found the stone to very fragile and brittle and had used extreme caution when transporting it anywhere. The Ravenclaw nodded her thanks to both her and Sirius, who had returned with the cauldron, already filled with water she noted with relief.

"Dacayendo Rosa roots," she called for next. From a white nap sack, Draco pulled out their hard earned prize. The rose roots were large at their base but were as fine as threads at the end. Sticking out at odd angles, the roots seemed to had been frozen while they had been running. Which was absolutely accurate. It had been Draco's spell that had caught it, and the others had given him the honor of carrying it home. As Ginny before him, he placed it carefully on the stone-top table.

"Finally, Professor Snape's crystallized tears," Evelyn concluded. This, Remus possessed. From the inside of his inner robe pocket came the glass bottle filled with the Potions Master's tears and sat it next to the bezoar. Everything was assembled and ready, all they needed to do now was actually brew the potion.

"Explain to me again," Ron requested as he entered the room, catching everyone off guard, "Why exactly those tears are necessary." Laying a hand over her rapidly beating heart, the Ravenclaw glared briefly at the red-haired male.

"I will if you promise not to scare us like that again. Don't you know how to knock?" Ron gave a sheepish grin and shrugged, snagging the last chair at the table.

"I didn't think I needed to. So, are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?" Ginny smacked her brother in the back of the head.

"Be nice and she might," the girl retorted. Ron rubbed his head and glared at his sister.

"We're making the Tritian potion which is considered one of the strongest curative draughts and requires only three ingredients and must be brewed in a steel cauldron," Evelyn began only to be interrupted by the red head.

"Why does it have to be steel?"

"Steel has the ability to store and enhance magic. Can you think of anytime your mother allowed you to have any steel object for a long period time at all?" He shook his head. "That's the reason. If someone were to wear a steel object for example, they could become bonded to it." She drew a breath. "But back to the potion. The bezoar must be dissolved in water at exactly eighty-five degrees Celsius. If you remember, bezoars are used in most curative draughts and will save you from most poisons. The roots add their own special enzymes that will eat away the foreign agent in the body. But the most important addition are the tears. They are actually drops of highly focused magic. Used correctly, they can do many things, including flush out this damn poison. We need thirteen tears for each potion and we have exactly twenty-six tears. We don't have any whatsoever to spare. Severus's tears are the most powerful and if we waste them, we're, to put it indelicately, in deep shit."

"Couldn't we give our tears if something were to happen?" Ron asked. The Ravenclaw shook her head.

"We can't mix tears, it's all or none. Ours won't be nearly as strong. It's these or nothing." Silence fell over them for a moment. This was it, all their hopes lay before them. Would this work? Or fail? Would their friends live? Or die? When all was said and done, would they feel they had done all that they could have? Remus cleared his throat.

"If everyone's curiosity is satisfied, then we'll get started. Evie." He nodded to his student. She lit the fire beneath the cauldron and grabbed the knife to cut the roots. So it began.

***

"Careful, easy. All right, lower him." The thin and pale body of his godson gently settled into Sirius's lap. He carefully positioned himself, cradling the head in the crook of his arm. There was no life in the boy anymore, something more frightening than meeting a Dementor alone. He trailed his index finger over the thin scar, the one that had given the boy fame he had never wanted. Seeing what his godson had been reduced to was heart breaking and it was all Sirius could do to keep the tears in check. The way he looked now, one would want to fold him gently into their arms and rock him like a baby. It was strange, every time Sirius had seen Severus rock the boy, it was as though Harry shrunk. That or Severus grew large. Either way, in Severus's arms, Harry was no bigger than a first year or younger. Someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Ready?" He nodded and carefully accepted the steaming goblet. It had taken the trio of two students and one professor three excruciatingly long hours to complete what Sirius now held his hand. It was hardly more than mouth full, and another was already being prepared for the Headmaster. The first had to be given to Harry, as he had been down the longest. Lifting the child's head, he pressed the steel goblet to the lips, coaxing the mouth open. In it went and the ex-convict stroked the boy's throat, ensuring he swallowed most, if not all of it. Then came the waiting. Seconds ticked by, and minutes stretched into infinity. Panic had begun to settle over Sirius when nothing about his godson changed. It dashed away when the small form began to stir and sleepy green eyes opened to peer at him curiously.

"Sirius?" It was the most beautiful thing the animagus had ever heard as he nearly smothered the child as he hugged him.

"Yes, Harry! You're all right! You're all right!" Weakly Harry returned the affection, trying to discern what exactly was going on.

"Sirius?" The ex-convict smiled at him. "Where's father?" The smile instantly faded. Without replying, Sirius moved to allow the boy to view the Potions Master, allowing that to speak for him.

"No. What happened to me, Sirius? What happened to grandpa?" Briefly the animagus explained what had happened over the last several days. As he did so, Evelyn entered the room, another steel goblet in her hand. Her heart did a flip-flop when she spotted the conscious form of her friend. She greeted the dazed green eyes with a smile and headed towards the Headmaster. The potion was quickly administered and he made comfortable to allow it to take its course. She only turned when Harry spoke again.

"Has no one looked for a cure for him?" They shuffled their feet and some hung their heads, not willing to meet the accusing green gaze. In their haste to help him, the Potions Master's problem had been forgotten, set aside to be mulled over later. By all this was true, except for one.

"I have, Harry." They turned to gawk at Evelyn but she remained steadfast. Emerald held her like the Petrificus Totalus spell; she could not have moved if she had wanted or needed to.

"Everyone, please leave. Except for Evie." Sirius began to protest but Harry gave him a look. He immediately quieted and nodded, sitting the boy in the chair he occupied. Silently the others left, leaving the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw alone to speak.

"What have you found?" He asked when the door clicked shut, not mincing words. Evie sighed.

"It's no good, my friend, this one holds no physical cure." At first, Harry felt despair take hold but he combated it, curious about her last words.

" 'No physical cure'?" he repeated, signaling that she needed to elaborate. Evelyn left the Headmaster's bedside and kneeled before the fire mage, taking his hand into her own.

"Harry, the others told me what you truly are." She put her hand gently on his lips to prevent him from speaking.

"Let me finish. I think that you and the Headmaster," She gestured towards the bed, "are the cure that Severus needs. You are the Trinity of the Phoenix are you not?" He nodded. "Then you must been in union. United you stand, divided you fall and at the moment you are divided. Harry," She stared deep into his emerald eyes with her own gold, "In union not only means in mind, but in body and spirit as well. You must command Severus's body to expel the poison. Only you and the Headmaster may do so, none of the rest of us has the power or knowledge." She fell silent, letting her hand fall away from his lips. He captured it in his other, holding it tight as though to draw strength from the endless supply the girl before him seemed to possess. She was right, in everything she said. Was it not he who had stopped the man's nightmares all those days before, calming his body into a restful slumber? If he could do that, then he and his grandfather combined would be able to do much more.

"Help me over there." Sliding his arm around her shoulder, she helped him make his way to the large bed. Once on, he climbed on his father's right side, his grandfather already on the left. Gently he pushed him closer to the older man, not pausing to moan at the terrible state of both. He was certain he appeared no better, if not worse. All three now close, the mage reached to shake his grandfather awake. The potion had done its work, and the older man groggily obeyed the summons to consciousness.

"Harry?" he whispered, his voice cracking terribly. Harry smiled but shook his head, grasping the man's hand.

~No time, Grandfather, there is work to be done, and Potions Masters to save.~ Albus was startled to hear the voice ring clear within his mind but was not given the time to contemplate it as Harry explained the situation. Oh Merlin, this was a huge risk they were taking, but one that had to be done. Right then. He grasped his son's hand and placed a hand over the pale throat, nodding to Harry. The fire mage placed one hand at his father's forehead and the other just below the sternum. Closing their eyes, they began to chant.

"Enoeh terae weerh teh tera ew." The two mages began to glow gold and white, the air humming with their magic. "Eer ferac dnay ppah yht laeh dnae lohw." Silver light surrounded the Potions Master and he began to groan loudly, sweat pouring down his face. Evie watched in horrified fascination, and suddenly realized, the man's sweat was red! The poison was leaving his body! They were succeeding! "Ere wecn ouo ysae buoy tel." A scream tore from the tortured man's lips, his body arching painfully. Strange red light, like the red sweat, began forming around the pair's hands. The Ravenclaw immediately understood. They were drawing the poison to them.

"ERE WECN OUO YSAE BUOY TEL!" They cried one last time. Severus's body, still in a painful arch, convulsed once, and went limp. Harry and Albus immediately released him, panting from the extreme excursion. From their hands dripped a fine red liquid, that resembled, for all purposes, blood. Both quickly performed a cleaning charm and leaned over Severus.

"Child?" Albus called, voice tight with fear. Harry laid a hand on the man's cheek.

"Father?" For a moment he did not stir and the other three held their breath in anticipation. Finally, when all certain they were going to turn blue from lack of oxygen, he opened his eyes. When he spotted them, he smiled dreamily, caressing the fire mage's cheek, and grabbing his father's hand within his own. It was through these gentle gestures that he assured himself of one thing.

"I am home. I am home."

***

Like a vine to a trestle she clung to Windchaser's mane, desperate to stay on. She had ridden many times before but not at the insane pace they were going at now. The rings had been melted from her finger by the unicorn beneath her, her sisters as well. They had discovered that they bound them to the manor when they had not been able to leave the door. Behind her she could hear the angry shouts of the four Death Eaters (they had thought it would only be two but they had been mistaken) that had remained to guard them as well as the occasional explosion caused by the avenging lightening of the two Barice Unicorns that had provided the distraction for their escape. Somewhere to her left she could make out the crash of Silverhoof's hooves, whom her sister rode, three house-elves tucked against her. Seri herself had a small group of the creatures, one of whom was Carrie, holding on to the inside of her cloak for dear life. The other three unicorns carried the rest and the healer could hear their frightened squeaks almost above the explosions. There was not time to comfort them now, they had to get as far away from Riddle Manor as possible.

Just when she thought they were home free, a curse ripped through her body. Knives stabbing and slashing, limbs being torn away ruthlessly and her skin burned all at once. Pain beyond any she had ever felt. The Cruciatus Curse. A scream ripped from her throat, causing Windchaser to slow a trifle.

~Serenity!~ he cried, but she shook her head, the gesture decidedly jerky.

"Go on," she choked, digging her heels into his sides, "Go on!" Propelled by both her words and actions he surged forward once more, faster than before. For all she worth did she hold onto the thick mane, bearing the pain of the curse. They could not stop the person casting it and the only way to terminate it now was distance. That would take time. Unable to prevent them, she let the tears stream down her dirt covered face, creating thin clean trails. Unsuccessfully she blocked her sister from her mind, who was suffering through the same. She had been hit as well. Resigned to the pain she pressed closed to Windchaser and waited.

***

Around him were more than a hundred Death Eaters, waiting like lions for their prey. Their prey happened to be the gargantuan castle that lay not too far off in the distance. Voldemort licked his lips. This was what he'd been waiting for. For weeks. Years. Decades. Now his dream would become a reality and he would control Hogwarts. If he did, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of England and the world followed. What beautiful, lovely, enchanting thoughts. Just as he was about to give the signal to charge, a Death Eater came running through the ranks, waving his arms frantically.

"Sir! The Manor has been attacked! The Manor has been attacked!" This pulled his attention away from the immediate situation and to the panting individual before him.

"Well, tell me what happened!" He bellowed, displaying his normal lack of patience. The man gulped and took a deep breath.

"Unicorns, sir! They attacked the Manor. The men there were overwhelmed, its complete chaos there, no one knows what's going on." He discreetly backed away as the overlord began to growl deep within his throat. 'Not now!' he thought, 'Not when I'm about to fulfill my dream!' But he had to go back, he had to make certain his Intendeds had not been harmed. That meant calling off the attack. Damn it no!-but there was no other way. He growled again, red eyes flashing.

"Everyone leave. This attack has been canceled. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Nott, all of you with me. I want to know what is going on at my home." But he would be too late. When he arrived, it was to find Riddle Manor a burning, shadowy heap.

And the twins long gone.

***

Hogwarts had a small celebration in honor of the Hogwarts's Three's return to health. The students had been granted a day from their studies to join in on the activities that turned out to be quite fun. Most enjoyed the time in the Great Hall, which had more or less become a large common room for the occasion. Students from every house sat together, chatting happily about the approaching holidays (which were still a month and some weeks away) and the fact that all was right again. Except for one thing.

It was still very clear in their minds the words of Salazar Snape. 'Serenity and Kitiara Winter are to be the brides of the exalted Lord Voldemort.' It was plain to many of the students that although they had regained their health, all was not right among the Three.

It was nearing lunch and students were pouring from the halls and outdoors into the Great Hall. The numerous large couches and chairs transfigured themselves back into tables and benches which were soon filled with hungry students. The Headmaster, with his son on one side and grandson on the other, stood, preparing to begin the feast when the Great Hall doors suddenly burst open with a resounding bang. Several students screamed in surprise, then in fright at the sight they beheld. Before them was a mammoth of a unicorn, mane whipping from the frigid wind that was blasting into the hall behind him. On his back, was a familiar form. It was that of....

"Seri!" Scrambling from his seat and around the table, Severus ran to the beast, halting when it snorted. Fumbling, he bowed quickly.

"Please! I must....you must.....please...." All he could do was plead, but it seemed to be enough. The unicorn strode forward and turned to the side, allowing him to pull her from his back. Severus, as though holding a priceless treasure, gently untangled her fingers from the black mane and sank to the floor, her safely in his arms.

"Oh, Seri," he whispered, stroking her pale dirty face. She was a fine mess; hair tangled from the ride and riddled with leaves and small twigs that had snagged and not loosened. Her outfit, an emerald green dress, was ripped in several places and even covered in blood. The cloak she wore he recognized as that of a Death Eater, though it was torn from the wind and seemed to be.....heavy? Tugging it open, he found much to his surprise, three unconscious house-elves.

"What in the world....?" He let the sentence trail off, merely holding her close to him. It didn't matter, she was home now and safe. He did not intend to let her from his sight again.

"Is mother all right?" Harry asked anxiously as he kneeled beside the pair. Severus glanced up, smiling at his son's concern. Quite a family they made.

"She will be, help me get the house-elves out of this cloak." The fire mage immediately began to pry the huddling creatures from their hiding place. "Is Kit well?" Harry glanced over at Artemis, who was holding the dark-haired healer as Severus did and Draco hovering over them.

"I believe she's in the same shape." The boy's eyes suddenly widened as he spotted the familiar female unicorn. "Silverhoof." The Potions Master's head snapped up, black eyes already wide.

"What?" The Gryffindor merely pointed. Standing before Albus, was indeed Silverhoof, still a unicorn. The Headmaster gazed at the creature with the warm cerulean blue eyes, the ones she was certain could read her every thought and emotion. Her heart burst with both joy and sorrow. Her love had been healed but she was a unicorn again. What was she to do? What were they to do? Not certain she had the courage to look at him any longer, she lowered her head, tears falling from her ocean blue orbs. Albus lifted it back up.

"It's all right," he whispered, thumb stroking her velvety cheek. "I understand. You had to go back and I can't begin to thank you enough for bringing the twins back to us." Tears fell from his eyes as well, mixing with her's on the floor.

~I just wish the we....we could be together. Always.~ she thought back. He smiled, eyes sparkling.

"We will," he promised, "We will." He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. The pool of tears on the floor began to glow, growing to encircle both beings. There was a brief flash that blinded the Hall's occupants, but it quickly faded, leaving a pleasant surprise behind. Instead of the unicorn, the Headmaster found himself kissing Seleyna, her black wings folded around them both. As he drew back both smiled.

"I guess wishes do come true," she whispered, laying her head on his chest. He stroked the silver hair, kissing the top of her head.

"They do indeed, my love, they do indeed."

***

(One Week Later)

"And how are you feeling this morning?" Severus asked lightly as he entered the twins cozy bedchambers. Seri laid down her book and smiled in delight. He sat beside her on the bed, offering a steaming mug of hot chocolate he had made himself which she accepted.

"Thank you and I'm just fine." He returned the smile, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

"I'm glad." Albus was right, hot chocolate did make everything better. It had been one week since the twins had made their way back to the castle and finally, everything seemed to be returning to normal. All that was out of place was the medi-witch from St. Mungo's that still ran the hospital wing and attended to the twins. The woman never stayed long before she was chased away with unkept promises that they would be good and stay in bed so they could get their rest. They followed this order, most of the time. It was Kit who had protested loudly about the unfairness of the fact that they had to remain in bed, why Severus, Albus, and Harry, all of whom had been sick for some time, were allowed to walk free from the grips of the "evil" nurse. Healers did not make good patients themselves. When Artemis had heard this, he had merely chuckled and nuzzled her hair.

"Because they didn't have to live with Voldemort for two weeks, that's why," he'd replied somewhat darkly. The simple gesture had been enough to immediately calm the woman as she clung to the larger man. Artemis was not there at the moment but there were signs of his recent visit: a bouquet of fresh flowers (from Merlin only knew where as all the flowers outside were dead because of the wintery conditions) and a box of chocolates. Severus had to hand it to his cousin; he knew the best way to a woman's heart was through chocolate. Though Seri herself liked chocolate, she preferred ice cream over all as a dessert. Which is what he'd brought with the hot chocolate.

"Severus," she began, running her finger in a V over her heart. She was tracing the non-existent "mark of ownership", a habit she had confessed to have. The Potions Master immediately captured the hand within his own, preventing her from performing this nervous action. She gave him a sheepish but pleased grin. She remembered waking seven days ago to the sound of a violent string of curses that would have made Lucius Malfoy's ears burn. At first, she had not know she was at Hogwarts but the feeling of the scar out in the open for all to see was clear. With a cry of disgust, she had attempted to hide it, only to have her actions halted by gentle hands.

"It's all right," It was Severus, "You are safe," A hand ran through her hair, soothing away the clinging fears. "I'll take care of you, dearheart, do not fear." His hand covered the V. Her eyes found the warm black coals that were his and her fear began to fade and then disappear. Her smile, which she had not allowed to show for some time, shined through. His smile he offered in return as he passed his hand over her eyes.

"Sleep, love, I'll watch over you."

"Yes, dearheart?" he asked while playing with one of her golden curls.

"Would it be all right for Kit and me to go visit Minerva for lunch?" Before Severus could answer, Kit added her own two cents from across the room.

"Yes, warden might you show us a bit of you infamed kindness and allow us to leave this prison," she gestured around the room, "if only for a short time. Please," she gave him a fake pleading look and adopted a whine, "I'll get on my knees and before you and beg if I must." As she made a move to push back the heavy covers, Severus held up his hand while he continued to laugh. Seri rolled her eyes at her sister's antics but could not disguise the pleased expression at the man's upbeat attitude. Oh, how she had missed him. His long black hair that shined with a hidden softness. The lines on his ivory skin had all but disappeared; no anger or fear or even a scowl. His eyes; someone had once said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. It was very true with this man before her. But what she had missed most was what she saw on his face now, his smile. In the coldest of winters it would make her warm. If she were starving, it would give her nourishment. If she had thirst, it would quench it. She knew she was in love, but never before had she felt the full extent of its power over her. The only emotion that could second this was her love and care for the little one she knew as Harry. No matter how old he got, he would always be the little one to her. They were her world now, and always would be.

"Seri? Seri!" The concerned calling jolted her back to the present and she blinked, finding herself looking into the Potions Master's concerned eyes.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I just got lost in my thoughts. Is there something I missed?"

"Well," the man began, "I just informed your sister that I'm not her warden but I would speak to hi after his class. I'm sure Artemis would let her go, but, Seri, there is something I must ask." His voice tightened and he began to fidget, quite uncharacteristic of him. She laid a gentle hand over his.

"Yes, Severus?" The words were meant to be helpful but they only succeeded in causing the man to be even more nervous. This was the time, he could do it now. He would do it now.

"Seri, would.....would.....would you like for me to fly you there? I could take you both directly to her window." Damn it! He'd chickened out! She blinked, surprised by the question as though it were not the one she had expected.

"That's all right, Severus, we are quite capable of walking, but thank you for offering." Nervously he rose from the bed and headed toward the door.

"I suppose I'll see you at dinner then."

"I suppose so," she agreed. Not knowing what else to say he slipped out the door and proceeded to call himself a myriad of names. He was deep into this when he reached the Headmaster's office. He was rather afraid to enter, knowing he would be facing the wrath of his father and son. Oh well, he thought with a shrug, I've faced worse. But he quickly changed his mind when he entered the room.

"You didn't ask her, did you?" Harry shook his head. "There's no need to answer that, I already know. Good Lord, Severus, for someone who used to spy on Voldemort, you're a chicken." It was stated frankly and without consideration of the other's feelings. It was also absolutely true.

"I'm sorry!" He threw himself on the could beside his father who pulled him against him. "I tried, I really did." At the two's identical skeptical looks he grumbled, "Well, I did."

"Severus, what happened when you went to ask her, what did you say?" Seleyna asked kindly as she settled beside her soul-bonded (Albus). After she asked she shot the other two males warning glares, making it quite clear they should remain silent for their own safety. Severus sighed, leaning into his father's touch. He allowed his eyes to close, enjoying the closeness he felt by even the simple touch of his hair. He opened them to stare into the snow white beard, which, he was glad to see, was regaining its auburn streaks.

"It's simple really, I froze. She asked if she could go visit McGonagall for lunch and I said it would be fine."

"You did?" Harry asked incrediously. "Are you sure? Father, I don't think you should let her go." The Potions Master shook his head slightly, not wanting to dislodge the hand on his head.

"Harry, I know that you and Albus have had mixed feelings about that woman since you woke but we haven't proven anything. Those two have not been out of that room for almost a week, they're beginning to go stir crazy. I couldn't say no," he argued in his defense. What he spoke of was true; since awakening from their comas both Headmaster and student had been been constantly wary of the Transfiguration professor for reasons they could not explain. It had not been that they hadn't wanted to, they did. There was just no basis for these feelings. Their memories, however, seemed to had become slightly unreliable. Neither remembered the fact that McGonagall had been the last person to see them prior to their illness, which she had caused. Albus himself did not recall his 'trip' to the Great Hall where he had accused the woman in front of the entire student body. Now, every time her name was mentioned, both's first thought was, "Do not trust her."

Harry held up his hands in a sign of surrender.

"All right, Father. But I'm telling you, this is going to come back to haunt you, you will regret this," he warned with certainty that frightened the Potions Master. The fire mage's foresight could not have been more accurate.

***

Seri and Kit walked side by side down the cavernous halls, reveling in the peace and quiet. Oh, there had been quiet at the Riddle Manor, but it had been a dead silence, filled with hungry faces. Here, one could almost hear the echo of recent conversations, feel the energy of the students that had come through. It was quite refreshing. They arrived before the lion painting and Kit knocked on the frame. The lion, apparently in a sour mood, tried to snap at her hand then sulked away when he did not succeed, hiding behind a tree in the picture. That's strange, thought the twins. The guarding portraits such as this one often reflected the mood of who occupied the room they were guarding. If Minerva was in such a horrible mood, it might have been best for them to come back at another time. Before they could turn and leave, the painting swung open, revealing a bright and cheerful Transfiguration teacher.

"Hello, ladies, would you care to join us?" She moved aside to allow them entrance. Cautiously, both somehow feeling they were stepping into a lion's den, they entered, finding most of the staff was also present. And, hidden under an invisibility cloak, so was another. When they cleared the door way, McGonagall quickly shut the door behind them and ushered them to the remaining seats. Once they were settled, the black-haired professor poured each a cup of tea and offered it to them.

"Spot of tea?"

***

Dinner came all too soon for Severus who wished that it had arrived sooner and that it had never come at all. But his father and son had not faulted him, he had every right and more so to be nervous. They wished him all the luck in the world and supported him fully. As an extra precaution (so that he would not once again display the fact that he was a chicken) they would be with him (mentally) while he asked her the question.

His breath caught in his throat. There she was, beside McGonagall. In the seat next to his own. He froze, his feet temporarily refusing to go onward. A gentle shove from behind by a certain Headmaster sent him moving forward again and he managed to continue on to his place at the table.

Through out dinner he would sneak glances at the woman beside him. She had ignored him completely through the entire meal, speaking no more than two words to him, if that. While this attitude puzzled him, he did not let it worry him. The only real reaction he had summoned forth from her was a raised eyebrow when she had read the note he had passed her. Not the innocently curious expression he had anticipated but merely a quizzical eyebrow. It was almost as if she were suggesting passing notes was childish. Though, only she could read it. It was written in a code they had developed while students.

"Please remain here after dinner ends. Sev." Simple and to the point. Now all he had to do was wait.

***

All too soon the waiting was over and he found himself alone and face to face with the golden-haired healer.

"Is there something you wanted to discuss with me, Severus?" she asked with polite curiosity. He nodded, not yet trusting his tongue to formulate the right words. "Then what is it?" she pressed on. The Potions Master fumbled for the right words.

"Uh....well.....uh, Seri....I just.....um, perhaps you better sit down for this one." She took his advice and planted herself in the Headmaster's empty chair. Several seconds passed after she did so and still the man said nothing. The healer had to raise an eyebrow. His nervousness was plain, shown best by the insistent tugging of one of his dark locks.

"Severus?" she prompted, wondering what in the world could bring such a reaction from him.

"Seri, I...." He drew in a breath. He would do this, now. Bending down on one knee before her, he drew a small black box from his pocket and held it up.

"Serenity Winter," he began to open the box, revealing the ring inside, "Will you marry me?" Silence fell over them as the healer was completely taken aback. Her eyes flickered from the ring to the man's sincere and hopeful face. She knew what she must say, and desperately wanted to say it.

"Severus, I...." she trailed off for a moment, eyes squeezing shut as if in pain. The man became concerned when she appeared to almost be fighting for her very breath. He reached up with a concerned hand to touch her cheek.

"Seri?" She knocked his hand away.

"I can't marry you, Severus," She saw his crushed expression, knowing it was all her fault and added as a whisper, "I'm sorry." Before running from the Great Hall, tears blinding her. Severus Snape-Dumbledore, Potions Master of Hogwarts, was left all alone.

***End of Chapter 28***

A/N: *Authoress sits writing out her will for she knows that the readers will be after her blood for what she has just done and the fact that she's made the wait so long for it. In the background you could see the Weasley twins dressed in black, humming a funeral march.*

2A/N: If you don't get what happened to Seri and Kit when they went to go visit McGonagall, I'm going to hit you over the head with a hammer.

3A/N: Bonus house points for anyone who can guess which novel and novella I blantenly borrowed the terms "My Intended" and the lovely mental image that Seri had about Voldemort with the three heads and him chewing on three men. They are not mine, I just, as I said, borrowed them.

4A/N: The Dacayendo Rosa is mine, I invented it. Please do not take it without permission. The idea of the steel belongs to LunarMist DarknessEclipse who said I could borrow it to use. Thank You! I also own the potion mentioned, the Tritian potion.

5A/N: The idea for Sev's dreams where he seems to flip-flop between realities comes from some Star Trek TNG episode where Riker does something of the same. I can't remember the title but oh well.

6A/N: All replies will be done at a later date as I need to get this out and do not wish to delay it because of that.

7A/N: Please! The ASA and Manifestants_of_GSFI need members to keep it going! Any contributions you would like to make (Stories and such) are greatly appreciated! Maybe you've written ahead to some scene I have not yet gotten to, well, post it at one or both of these places. Thank you! Please review!