Folly to Be Wise

by Avocado

Severus had to disagree with Dumbledore. There was never a good time to encounter a former lover for whom one had betrayed the Dark Lord. It was worse, still, to encounter a lover one had tried to feed to a dementor. Unfortunately, Sirius Black was both.

3. Part II

Part II.

Alas, regardless of their doom,
The little victims play!
No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day:

---

That night, Severus stood outside Grimmauld Place, waiting as the lights dimmed. He walked in without knocking, secure in the faith that Order membership guaranteed entry.

Black's parents had gutted his room, Regulus had said. And so-- where to search? Was Black down drinking again?

But the house was dark, quiet. The children were clearly asleep. It seemed Black was, as well. Following instinct, he climbed the stairs, turned, walked down the hall. Opened a door.

The room was lit. It faced the rear garden, not the street. Black sat on the bed, fully dressed, left leg outstretched, right bent at the knee. His right arm rested on the cocked knee, crystal shot glass in hand. A bottle of Firewhiskey sat on the bedside table. Its familiar amber filled the glass. Black's lips quirked. "Oh, do come in, Snape," his ruined voice said. "I thought you'd be back."

Severus stepped in, pushing the door closed behind him. Having come, he was at a loss. "You had questions," he said.

Black let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, I have. But I'm certain you haven't come to answer them."

The thrum of desire hit him, standing across the room. "No," he managed. "It's not why I came. But I will answer."

Black shook his head. His arm jerked a bit at the movement, Firewhiskey sloshing in the glass. "Don't bother. I know the answer. I'm not stupid. You read my mind, all those years ago. You're here now because you read my mind today."

Severus took a few steps, moving within a metre of the bed. "You want it, then." He didn't bother to clarify.

Black laughed again. "But you knew that, didn't you? Same as you knew the first time." He pursed his lips. "You read every thought I had. Why'd you even hesitate, that first night?"

Severus frowned, remembering. Black had thrown the invitation as a challenge. "I thought I must be wrong, then. I'd studied Legilimency, but I was new to it." He dug deeper. Say it. "I thought I was seeing what I wanted to see. You were very drunk."

"So you wanted me, then." The corner of Black's mouth drew up.

Severus laughed shortly. It was a night for admissions; this one was harmless. "Of course I wanted you. You thought it was an assignment? You surely can't believe that you were so damned important that the Dark Lord would send me to seduce you. God, he'd never have thought it would work, for one thing."

"I see." Black wore a sardonic smile. It was a look he'd been too open to wear fifteen years earlier. "And now?"

In answer, Severus stepped closer, took the Firewhiskey glass from Black's hand, and drank it down. He set it down by the bottle on the bedside table. He laced his hand in Black's tangled hair, dragged Black's head forward, brought his mouth down to meet Black's.

He'd forgot what kissing Black was like. They'd done it so seldom. Their tongues twisted, he dragged his across Black's teeth and hard palate. The rush of heat in his groin-- how had he forgot this?

He pulled his mouth away. Black was gasping-- he supposed he was as well. "Undress," Severus said.

Black's eyes flashed defiance. "You, too."

He never had, before, too afraid that the Mark would be visible. Now-- it hardly mattered. Black didn't know all, but he knew enough. Severus pulled back, hands working at his throat, unfastening his robes, removing them. Shoes, pants, all falling to the floor. Black had risen and was shucking his clothes as well.

The rest of Black's body was as wasted as his face. He was still painfully thin. Severus could count his ribs beneath the stretched skin. Months in Grimmauld Place had kept Black's skin sickly pale; it stood stark white beneath the black hair on his chest. Very little of Black's physical perfection had survived his stay in Azkaban. The aquiline nose, the eyes-- those Severus would have recognised anywhere. Those remained. Remaining, too, was the attitude. That, more than anything else, was what he wanted.

Older, wiser now-- he knew that. He'd wanted Sirius Black fifteen years before-- not revenge on a tormentor, not James Potter's friend, not a handsome male body-- Sirius Black. And, whatever else had changed, Severus wanted him still.

He reached out, coiled an arm behind Black, dragged him close. Black was taller, still, but not by much. He locked his open mouth on Black's, pressing his hard cock into Black's belly. He freed his mouth long enough to growl, "Get into bed."

---

After, Severus moved to go. Black stopped him with a shake of his head. "No, Severus, stay." They slid back into the bed, legs entwined, arms wrapped loosely around each other. "Nox," Black whispered, and the room turned dark around them.

More relaxed than he'd allowed himself to be in years, Severus nodded off to sleep.

He woke in the dark to a voice. "Mistress would cry and wail, she would, to see the dirty boy in her bed. Sick. Repulsive. Blood traitor. Monster in Mistress' house. My mistress' noble line, polluted, wrecked, ruined."

Severus cringed. What--?

Black stirred against him. The voice continued. "Filthy little half-blood, yes. Mistress should never have let you in the house."

Black grunted and moved, breaking their embrace. Severus heard the creak of the mattress springs. "Kreacher, hold your tongue. Lumos." The room was filled with light.

It was Kreacher, Severus saw. The house-elf stood just inside the door, eyes narrowed, face marked with a vicious sneer. Severus sat up in bed, all traces of sleepy relaxation gone.

Black rose from the bed, padding across the floor and grabbing Kreacher by the throat. He shook the house-elf, speaking with quiet menace. "You, Kreacher, are not to speak of this to Harry, to Remus, to anyone. I don't want you to write it, hint it, make significant hand gestures-- God-- you are not to mention sex, fucking, buggering, or any other term for it to me or to anyone else, you filthy sneak. I don't give a damn how horrified my mother would be, and I don't care what you have to say about it. I may not be able to dismiss you, but I can damned well rip you apart. Don't you forget it."

Kreacher's eyes narrowed to slits, fixed on Severus and swept back to Black. "Kreacher understands."

Black shook him again. "I thought you did. Now, get back to your filthy den."

Kreacher Disapparated, leaving Black threatening empty air. He dropped his hand, walking over to the door and closing it.

Severus pushed back the blanket. "I should go."

Black turned, leaning back against the closed door. "Why bother?"

"The students--"

Black lifted his left shoulder in a quick shrug. "They'll be arriving at Hogwarts tomorrow. Knowing you, you've got every minute of their time planned. What's your rush?"

Severus clenched his hands, then released. "As we've just established, Black," he said drily, "it's better if I'm not seen here."

Black pushed off the door, stalking across the room. "Kreacher will hold his tongue, Snape." He supposed the use of his surname was meant to be an insult.

Severus said nothing. He lay back, pulling the blanket over himself.

Black climbed back in bed, laying down on his back next to Severus. Their bodies were not touching, but Severus felt the heat radiating off Black's body. "Listen, Severus, I was thinking. I'd like to ask you a favour."

Severus turned his head; he was watching Black's profile as Black stared up at the ceiling. "What?"

The uncertain smile was there, then gone. "You're teaching Harry Occlumency."

"Yes, to my sorrow."

Black cleared his throat. "Severus, can't you just-- never mind." He sighed. "I want you to teach me," he said quickly.

I'd rather you not learn. Severus didn't say it. "I don't know that you'll be much better than Potter, Black."

"What's wrong with Harry? He's not an idiot, Severus, and you know it."

I beg to differ, Black. "He lacks focus. His mind is so open that it's difficult to avoid reading it. Yours is the same."

He watched Black's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "I'm willing to try."

"Why? You don't need to know." You're not getting out of this house. We both know it.

Black turned his head; his nose was within a few inches of Severus'. Black wasn't a Legilimens, but his words indicated he'd read the thought perfectly well. "I may be trapped here, but someday I'm going to get out. If what you say is true, Voldemort can read me as easily as he can read Harry. If you won't do it for me, do it for yourself." He paused. His voice rang with false lightness. "Or did you tell Voldemort you were planning on coming here to fuck me?"

Severus felt his mouth twist. "I didn't tell him last time. I'm not going to tell him now."

Black blinked rapidly. "I thought you said he--"

Severus pursed his lips. "I lied. All right, Black? I do that. I didn't tell him last time. I'm not intending on telling him this time." He looked deep in Black's eyes, almost overwhelmed by Black's surprise and hope. "I'll teach you."

Black gave him a quick smile. "I hadn't even got to bribing you with sex, Severus."

Severus turned on his side, draping his left arm over Black's chest. "Hm. Best get to that now, then," he whispered, flicking his tongue over Black's earlobe.

"I will, at that."

It was well after dawn when Severus slipped out the front door to return to Hogwarts. He'd promised to return the next day after his lesson with Potter, and Black had promised to make it worth his while.

---

13 January 1996

The fact that Occlumency lessons would be "buying" him sex with Sirius Black almost made the thought of spending further time with Harry Potter bearable. Of course, this was balanced with years of memories of Potter chattering with Ron Weasley, carelessly tossing ingredients into his cauldron and stirring haphazardly. Severus had warned Dumbledore-- warned Black, for that matter-- that Potter lacked focus. Potter also lacked emotional control. Focus and emotional control were the only requirements of Occlumency.

Severus usually held strict control of his own emotions, though dealing with Potter was a severe trial. The boy looked too much like his father. Severus couldn't look at him without thinking of the worst of James Potter's pranks. To train the boy at all, Severus needed to be certain of his own control.

That in mind, he'd secured the loan of Dumbledore's Pensieve. Now, with Potter seated across from him, there were three memories he pulled. They weren't the memories he least wanted Potter to see-- he won't break into my mind in any case-- but the memories that kept him from calm when he looked at the boy: first, that appalling day after his Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL; second, the night in the Shrieking Shack; third, the day it all began, that first day at King's Cross when James Potter-- spoiled child that he was-- had mocked Severus' Yorkshire accent, knocked Severus' books out of his arms, spilling them all over the platform, then sneered when the first tears sprang to Severus' eyes... Severus ripped that memory out of place with especial force.

Placing the memories in the Pensieve did not completely obliterate them from his mind-- he still knew what each contained. However, in the Pensieve, they were distant enough that he recalled very few details. Much easier to deal with the boy without them.

Leaving the memories shimmering in the Pensieve, he sat down behind his desk. If Potter saw any memories of Severus fucking Sirius Black through the walls, the mattress, the floor-- Severus would live quite happily with that exposure.

God knows, perhaps the boy would finally give me some respect.

The lesson went-- as he'd expected, really.

Potter was completely unable to control his emotions. Severus was able to enter his mind and play through his memories at will. Potter grew angrier with each successive failure, practically scorching the air around him with fury. It was painfully obvious that Potter thought Severus was manipulating him, deliberately trying to humiliate him.

Then he struck a memory in Potter's mind, and Potter asked about the Department of Mysteries. Severus listened to the description in shock. He knew what Voldemort wanted there, knew the boy must have caught the unconscious projection from Voldemort's mind. The Dark Lord wants the prophecy-- he wants to know if it will tell him how to defeat Potter.

Severus pressed his lips tightly together. The less he thinks of it, the better. Thinking of it left a path open for Voldemort to exploit. Severus didn't know how Voldemort would manage it, but Potter was so volatile Severus knew it wouldn't be difficult. He ordered Potter not to think of it-- to shove the thoughts aside.

Potter nodded at the order, but Severus felt his defiance. He tried to get the boy to block him, but with no success.

There was nothing to be said. There was nothing to be done. He'd planned to have one Occlumency lesson per week with Potter; in the wake of the complete failure of the lesson, Severus doubled it, ordering the boy to return on Wednesday.

He was happy to dismiss the boy in the end-- happy to go off and claim the promised reward of fucking Black. He'd burst past Kreacher, searched the house, and finally dragged Black away from the hippogriff. After Kreacher's diatribe the night before, Severus had decided precisely where and how he wanted Black. The memory of his first encounter with James Potter only cemented that desire.

Black held the frame of his mother's portrait, leaning into it as Severus fucked him hard from behind. The portrait was screaming incoherently, the house-elf standing by and ringing its hands.

After they shuddered to completion, Severus hissed threats at the portrait until it subsided in silence.

He moved with Black into the drawing room and began his second set of Occlumency lessons for the evening.

Years in Azkaban had not helped Black control his anger. He'd learnt to dodge it through Animagism. It was fortunate Black had had that out. Without it, he would have surely lost any semblance of joy in Azkaban-- fed to the dementors. Black's feelings practically shone through him. Teaching him to block them-- compartmentalise them-- it seemed almost a crime.

Then again, Black had asked. He was applying himself to Occlumency with a dedication his godson failed to match.

---

14 January 1996

The next morning, Severus stared at the headline of Daily Prophet over breakfast. He was sneered at by the photographs of his fellow Death Eaters; the Prophet trumpeted their escape. There's no stopping it now. He stared closely at Bellatrix Lestrange. Didn't age well, did you, Bellatrix? She'd been his main competition for Voldemort's favour. They'd despised one another. She'd almost certainly killed Regulus Black.

Black will be furious.

He read the article, then set the paper aside.

He glanced first at the toad, then, certain she was not watching, over at Dumbledore. I didn't know. Why didn't I know?

---

15 January 1996

Another day passed. Severus stared at the toad's latest Educational Decree-- number twenty-six-- as he posted it on the Slytherin noticeboard.

He'd thought the decree forbidding student organisations was particularly fortuitous in its timing. This decree was too fortuitously timed. Does she know about the Occlumency lessons? He tacked the notice in place viciously. If she knew, she'd stop them.

He wondered, though-- did the Ministry have a spy in Dumbledore's Order? Severus was virtually certain that Voldemort had a spy in the Order in addition to Severus.

If he had only me, he'd summon me more often.

It was a suspicion, but he had no way to confirm it.

He stared at the decree a moment more before turning to go to breakfast. He'd find out soon enough whether the toad knew about the Occlumency lessons, and he prayed he'd discover Voldemort's other spy before it was too late-- before it exposes me.

Either way, events had been set in train, and they were out of his control.

It was not all to the bad. He had to instruct Potter in Occlumency that evening, and, after, he would pay a visit to Sirius Black.

He smiled, a twitch of his lips that he quickly repressed.

Maybe I'll take him in the kitchen this time. He can try telling me again how he'd prefer I not give orders in his house. Hmm. But he's so diligent about obeying them.

---

23 February 1996

Severus had tried not to enjoy watching the Gryffindor team being humiliated by Hufflepuff. He had not tried particularly hard, but he had made the effort. McGonagall had shot fiery glares in his direction when the Slytherin spectators began a rousing chorus of "Weasley is Our King," and he'd loftily ignored them. Weasley's incompetence aside, he was well aware that Umbridge's vindictive lifetime ban of Harry Potter was the real cause of Hufflepuff's victory. Umbridge herself was a loaded weapon who could go off in any direction, and Severus tried to stay low enough on her priority scale that she wouldn't choose his direction.

All the same, Severus was pleased to have Slytherin once more atop the Quidditch standings. He woke Monday morning in an excellent mood.

For once, Potter was responsible for maintaining Severus' good mood.

Severus saw the flurry of owls clustering around Potter at breakfast. He quickly became aware that Umbridge had noticed as well. She rose from the staff table and waddled down to confront Potter and his friends.

The other instructors were casting surreptitious glances in the direction of the upcoming confrontation. Severus planted his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand, staring directly at Potter. Umbridge knew he despised Potter; she'd hardly be shocked that he watched.

He couldn't hear the conversation, but Severus had become familiar with Potter's defiant looks over five years of teaching him. This should be interesting. He watched with fascination as Potter tossed a glossy magazine in Umbridge's direction. Weasley and Granger were wearing looks of equal defiance.

Umbridge stared at the magazine in her hand, and her face went through a cycle of deeper and deeper colours. I didn't know some of those colours were possible.

Umbridge was shaking.

Severus had little doubt that Potter had done something incredibly stupid-- again-- another example of a Pyrrhic victory. He's worse than Draco. He had drawn Umbridge's attention and ire-- fool-- in the name of truth, justice, and the Gryffindor way.

Black will probably be proud.

Umbridge clutched the magazine to her chest, turned, and waddled back in the direction of the staff table. She glared in Dumbledore's direction. Severus repressed a twitch of his lips. Well.

Umbridge met Severus' eyes, and Severus gave her a mild nod as he used his Legilimency to probe her thoughts. The cover of The Quibbler-- The Quibbler?-- swam before his eyes.

He had acquired a copy of The Quibbler and read the full text of the interview within five minutes of the end of breakfast. Well. So. Potter had named Lucius as a Death Eater, along with several others. Draco's lips were a white line throughout Potions class, and he glared in Potter's direction.

Potter didn't seem to notice, laughing with his friends.

Potter treats this like a game. One day, he'll discover it isn't one.

The boy's defiance was sheer idiocy, but Severus had to congratulate him on its effectiveness. He did not, of course, say anything about the interview. In fact, he gave Potter the usual D on his potion. However, he also made no move to confiscate copies of The Quibbler as instructed by Educational Decree number twenty-seven.

Their Occlumency lesson that evening was, as always, a failure. He's not been practising.

Severus dismissed him with relief, then went on his evening walk. Slipping outside the wards, he Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

Black was waiting for him in the kitchen, copy of The Quibbler laying on the table.

For a moment, Severus' mind dragged up the image of Black's old house-- all flat surfaces strewn with magazines. He shoved the image away and threw a probe into Black's mind.

Black's Occlumency had improved; Severus saw nothing.

Black's mouth twitched. "Thought you'd got me, didn't you?"

"Don't get cocky, Black."

Black tossed his head. "I thought you liked it when I got cocky, Severus."

Severus sighed. "You are not amusing, Black." He paused. "You are improving," he admitted grudgingly.

Black grinned, white teeth flashing. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He gestured at the magazine on the table. "Did you see the interview?"

No avoiding that. "I did."

Black barked a laugh. "I bet that really got the Umbridge woman."

Severus shook his head slowly. "Oh, it did," he said. "She banned all copies of it; any student caught with it will be expelled."

Black rolled his eyes and laughed again. "Guaranteeing everyone's read it?"

"Naturally." Severus inclined his head.

"Hmm. She's not got much sense, has she? James and I could've run circles around her." Severus held back his response. Black shrugged. "Can't imagine Malfoy and the rest are happy about it, though." Black held a question in his eyes.

"I wouldn't know." Severus shot another probe at Black's mind; this time, it penetrated. Proud images of Potter twined with images of Severus, naked, cock between Black's lips... Severus felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He delivered a stiff rebuke. "Not careful enough, Black."

"Oops." Black's grin was not remotely regretful. "Well, I do need more practise, Severus."

"Quite." Severus sighed. "Now, clear your mind..."

"Are you certain?" Black's question was laced with laughter. "Didn't like what you saw, Severus? I'm offended."

Severus shook his head. He shoved aside thoughts of draping Black over the table with regret. "Later, Black. We have time. You asked to learn Occlumency, remember? So, try."

Black bowed his head, but his eyes danced with mischief. "Yes, Professor Snape."

Severus shook his head again. "Very funny. Now, clear your mind..."

---

Sex in the kitchen exceeded Severus' expectations.

---

8 March 1996

Occlumency lessons stretched on into early March. Black was a quick study, but Potter still made no progress at blocking Severus' Legilimency. Severus wondered if the boy had made any attempt to practise as instructed.

Their third lesson of the month was proceeding with Potter's usual incompetence. Potter had collapsed to the floor after Severus' latest attack. Severus had seen a young version of Potter's exceedingly fat cousin forcing Potter to do a variety of degrading activities. Severus had grown unpleasantly familiar with Potter's Muggle relatives in the course of their Occlumency lessons. A true heir to James Potter, for all they're unrelated, he thought uncomfortably. In the midst of the usual rush of humiliating images-- Potter's cousin kicking him into a dark closet, Potter's cousin and a group of other boys laughing loudly as Potter picked up broken glasses from the ground, Potter's cousin shoving him in the direction of the toilet while gesturing threats to flush him down the drain-- Severus saw something new, something unexpected.

The room was dark, and he stood looking down at a man kneeling on the stone floor. He felt the wash of rage through him.

The image was gone, and Severus pulled free of Potter's mind. His head was spinning. Rookwood. That was Rookwood. Which means-- Severus ordered Potter to his feet.

The boy looked up slowly.

Glaring at Potter, Severus demanded an explanation for the memory. Potter claimed ignorance at first, then began avoiding Severus' gaze. Hiding it. And very deliberately.

Severus felt as if his head were exploding. You stupid child. Have you listened to nothing I have told you? Have you listened to nothing the headmaster has told you? Why must you think you are the final arbiter of what is important? Why didn't you tell me about this "dream" of yours, Potter? He gritted his teeth. Damn you, do you even understand why we are standing in here in this room? No longer able to contain his rage, he threw the questions and accusations in Potter's face.

He was met with more avoidance, then defiance.

Giving Potter little time to prepare, Severus lifted his wand and plunged into the boy's mind again.

He knelt at lakeside, draped over the still form of Sirius Black. Terror choked his throat-- desperation froze him in place as he looked up and saw dementors-- ranks upon ranks of them. They drew closer, his terror escalating as he raised his wand in an attempt to fend them off--

Black. Sirius-- no, I-- Severus lifted his wand, forgetting that he was in a memory. "Get away. I can't let--" he said.

It was then that he lost control of the contact; he saw Potter's furious face clearly for a moment, heard Potter shouting. He felt Potter's mind sliding against his, memories playing beyond his control-- Severus cringed, shaking, as his father shouted, "Monsters, demons, the both of you. You're not even human!" His mother stood in front of him, "No, Tobias, please--"; Severus sat on his bed, striking down flies one by one, practising the killing curse; Narcissa laughed as Severus tried to climb on a broomstick-- Potter had cursed it to shake him off-- bastard-- Potter--

Potter...

Severus shoved the boy out of his mind with a shout and all the mental force he could muster. He slammed his shields down around the memories and emotions, retreating behind his barriers.

Potter fell back as if Severus had shoved him in truth; he collided with a jar of pickled toad. Severus heard the audible snap as the glass broke, then the sound of fluid dripping down to the floor.

Severus closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and cast the necessary spell to repair the jar. His mind darted from thought to thought. I'll need to clean later-- check the books-- He glanced back at the Pensieve behind him, touched it. For the first time, he was glad to have it. Humiliating though these particular memories had been, they weren't the ones he'd removed; those, at least, were safe. He forced his mind back to the task at hand. A Shield Charm. So simple, and so effective. If the Dark Lord had ever-- Severus dismissed the fear. Voldemort was too confident in his own abilities. He would never think to do something unconventional-- he was a trained Legilimens. He would try only Legilimency against Severus' Occlumency; anything else would be admitting a lack of confidence in his own power. But, Black, the dementors, when--? Severus swallowed. He owed the boy praise for this. It was his first success. Congratulate Potter. He did.

Potter said nothing.

Potter had managed to penetrate Severus' mind; that was more difficult than a simple block. Severus decided to push again, to try to capitalise on their prior success. Severus walked behind his desk; Potter stood facing him. Severus lifted his wand and pushed again, feeling the familiar surge of disappointment when he slid without resistance into Potter's mind.

The Department of Mysteries, a door looming closer at the end of the corridor. The door opened, revealing a round room filled with candles-- circled with doors-- No, damn it-- not here!

Severus shouted, breaking the contact. Potter fell to the floor with a crack. Severus glared down at him, demanding an explanation. So, you know nothing about it, do you?

Potter rose to his feet more quickly; his right hand raised to rub his head. He met Severus' eyes, and Severus felt the boy's honest confusion as he disclaimed knowledge of what he had seen.

We are losing. Lesson by lesson, we are losing ground. Why don't you try, boy? Severus let his tongue free, ripping into Potter. Black can do this; why can't you? Potter struck back-- the strike was as bewildering as it was infuriating. What do you mean, Potter? I am-- I was-- I am a Death Eater and you know it. Severus made to respond, but was stopped by a scream. He looked up.

Who--? For a mad moment, Severus wondered if it might have been Umbridge finally meeting her well-deserved fate.

And then there was more, the sound of voices, scraping coming from upstairs. Severus' brows drew together. Severus tossed a question at Potter before walking to the door, leaving Potter behind. He moved quickly down the corridor, up the stairs, and into the Entrance Hall.

Sybill Trelawney stood wailing over her trunks, Umbridge looking vindictive. It was all too clear what had happened-- Umbridge was getting rid of Trelawney.

And the whole school was there to see it happen.

Severus pushed through the crowd, catching McGonagall's eye. There but for the grace of competence go I. Severus closed his eyes. Or, rather-- there, but for the grace of Lucius Malfoy go I. He had few illusions that the Ministry would tolerate his own presence if Lucius Malfoy had not insisted he stay. The irony. A Death Eater protects my position in the Order of the Phoenix.

Severus flinched as Umbridge spewed insults at Trelawney. The Dark Lord would love her. She's another Bellatrix.

McGonagall walked to the center of the circle of onlookers, casting an arm about Trelawney's shoulders. She assured Trelawney that she wouldn't have to leave.

She can't leave. Dumbledore can't allow the Dark Lord to get hold of her. The protections on the Hall of Prophecy are for naught if you get the damned prophet. He looked on helplessly. Umbridge despised Trelawney; she would fight McGonagall tooth and nail.

And Dumbledore arrived, saving them all again-- even this damned repulsive Ministry toad-- assuring Trelawney she was entitled to stay at Hogwarts, if not to teach. He undercut Umbridge's triumph, offering a replacement Divination teacher, the centaur Firenze.

Severus watched the fury rise in Umbridge's face.

We'll pay for it, in the end. She'll never forget this.

Severus left the crowd of students behind, returning to his office. Severus was surprised to see the silver trails in the Pensieve. He'd been careless to leave his memories-- those memories-- unattended. Potter must have left behind me.

He reached out his wand, pulling the thoughts safely back into his brain. He flinched as he resorbed them.

He drew in a deep breath, sitting down behind his desk. He thought of Trelawney, of Umbridge. So much at stake, and the Ministry too blind to see it. He thought of Potter. Blind, too, that one.

He thought of that memory, that last one he pulled out of Potter's mind before losing control-- Black on the lakeshore, swarms of dementors swirling closer, Potter Black's only defense-- he shuddered. I lost control before Potter cast the spell. I lost it the moment I saw Black unconscious.

He set his elbows on the desk, then lowered his head, burying his face in his hands.

---

Severus fucked Black with added force after their own Occlumency lesson that evening. Not again. I won't lose you to dementors again, Black.

---

29 March 1996

Potter's subsequent Occlumency lessons met with no success. Trelawney's dismissal meant the toad was unbearably smug; it also gave her more free time. Fortunately, the majority of her efforts were concentrated against Dumbledore and McGonagall; Severus gradually realised that Umbridge had concluded Severus held a grudge against Dumbledore for continually refusing his application to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. This left his evening walks and Potter's Occlumency lessons free of Umbridge's interference.

It made little difference. Three weeks after Umbridge had sacked Trelawney, Potter was still completely unable to block Severus' incursions into his mind. Despite repeated prompts, Potter claimed not to be having any more "dreams" about Voldemort's activities. Severus didn't believe him.

In despair, Severus had started testing at the boundaries of the piece of Voldemort's soul encased in Potter's body. Since the fool can't block it; can I remove it? He made several simple attempts to cut it free, but the boy visibly flinched each time Severus' mind brushed against Voldemort's soul. Can the Dark Lord sense my touch as well? The thought was chilling. He continued his efforts, carefully watching Potter for any hint of reaction.

His attempts at removal were just as unsuccessful as his attempts to teach Potter Occlumency, but Severus continued to attempt both.

In the course of their lessons, Severus had passed through every memory of Potter's childhood multiple times; in addition, he'd seen enough of Potter's obsession with Cho Chang that Severus was embarrassed to look at the girl in class. The only mercy is that Potter has no fantasies about me.

Black, however, did. On the increasingly rare occasions when Severus managed to break beyond Black's Occlumency, he was rewarded with images of himself lying above Black-- kissing him, pounding into him, smiling evilly as Black gazed helplessly up at him. After one particularly vivid image, Severus could only conclude Black was deliberately allowing him to penetrate his mental defenses.

"Stop that," he snapped.

Black smiled, leaning his chair up on its back legs. "C'mon, Severus. I like seeing you blush."

Severus shook his head. "I've noticed that, Black." After a pause, he offered grudging praise. "You've improved."

Black grinned; his grey eyes lit. "Thanks, Severus. That didn't kill you, did it?"

Severus rolled his eyes, pressing his lips together. "All down to my excellent teaching, of course."

Black laughed, his usual sharp bark. "My mistake." He let the chair fall forward. His right hand drew a pattern on the tabletop. He stared down at it for a moment, then looked up and shrugged. "Speaking of your teaching, how's Harry doing?"

Trust him to bring that up. To be fair, it was the first time Black had asked. By common agreement, they avoided discussing Potter, school, Lupin-- any of their traditional areas of disagreement. Severus said, "Not well. He's made no progress."

Black sighed. "I wondered. Look, Severus. I could talk to him, say--"

"--Say what? 'Snape's not so bad; I should know; we're fucking'?" Severus laughed bitterly. "I can't imagine that would help. You've little idea how much the boy dislikes me, Black." He shook his head slowly. "To be fair, I'm not too fond of him, either. It would be better if the headmaster would do it."

"Why won't he?"

Severus hadn't told him about the Horcrux-- wouldn't. "The Dark Lord has exhibited some facility to invade Harry's mind. The headmaster is concerned the boy might pose a threat to him."

Black tapped his fingers against the table. "And he's not concerned about a threat to you? If anyone could handle it, Dumbledore could."

Severus shrugged. "The headmaster asked me to teach the boy, and so I will. I just am not meeting with much success."

"Talk to Dumbledore, then, dammit."

Severus shook his head. "Thank you for your teaching advice, Black. I think I can handle it."

"Prickly, aren't you? Sheathe your damned claws, Severus. I'll stay out of it." Black leaned back in his chair again.

"McGonagall's the cat, Black, not me."

Black grinned. "You'd rather I call you a vampire bat? Happy to oblige, Severus." His grin fell away, then returned. "But you are a cat; don't you remember 'the fair Selima'?"

Severus froze for a moment, then forced himself to relax. He remembered his teenage transformation into a female body quite well, and his encounter with Sirius Black by the side of the lake. The memory still made him uncomfortable and somewhat ashamed of himself; he was surprised Black was willing to bring it up. If Black was willing to talk about it, though, Severus had always wanted to understand the incident. "Apparently you had an unconscious desire to see me drowned, Black. That's the only possible explanation for quoting that poem."

Black sighed, grin dropping away again. His chair fell forward with a thunk. His voice was very serious when he spoke. "I was the romantic type, I guess. It was the first thing that sprang to mind when you called yourself 'Selena,' you know. Could have kicked myself, after." He laughed without humor. "Well, I suppose we always did get along like a house afire, Severus."

Severus pressed his lips tightly together. He forced a light tone. "Fighting like cats and dogs, you think? Well." Severus still took issue with the image of himself as a spoiled pet cat. He cleared his throat. "Selena-- I was looking at the moon. First thing that came to mind." Black's mouth quirked; Severus glanced away. "Look, Black-- from what I've seen in your mind, you aren't interested in women. I had assumed you were, at least somewhat."

Black cleared his throat in turn. His response was slow, considered. "No. I never particularly was. I was surprised to be interested in any girl. Relieved, a bit." He gave another faint laugh. "More fool me, then. Happy I never told James about the whole damned mess." He drew in a breath, let it out.

Severus swallowed. "I never did apologise, Black." Severus forced himself to meet the other man's eyes. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Black's eyes crinkled. "Will wonders never cease?" He shrugged. "Nah, don't fuss over it. It was a long time ago."

"So it was."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes.

Severus rested his right elbow on the table, then supported his chin on the heel of his hand. "There's not much more I can teach you about Occlumency, Black," he said, returning to a safe topic. "You could still use practise, but you're not bad. If you can block me, you should be able to block anyone short of the headmaster or the Dark Lord. Maybe even them."

The right corner of Black's mouth quirked up. "No false pride, one assumes." He held up a hand when Severus opened his mouth. "No, I mean that; you were never much for it. Thank you." He shook his head. "Does this mean you're not coming back, Severus?"

These visits to Black were dangerous; that he'd maintained them for months without attracting the attention of Dumbledore, Umbridge, or Voldemort was nothing short of astonishing. He swallowed, looking down. "I shouldn't."

"Oh, well, no. Plenty of things we all shouldn't do, Severus." He paused. "I'd like you to come. I don't know-- teach me Legilimency."

"Hard to see how that would be much use." His mouth quirked.

"Hmm. Maybe I'd like to know what you're thinking, Severus."

"You could ask." He said it without thinking. He pressed his lips closed, wishing the words unsaid.

The words hung in the air between them for a long, silent moment. Then Black spoke. "I might do that, then." The following silence was briefer, less fraught with tension. "If not that, then something else. Damn all, Severus, I'm rusty after Azkaban, and I've been mouldering away in here. When I get out of here, I'm dead if I can't fight. You know it."

Severus did; he also knew that Black was very likely not getting out of Grimmauld Place. He had no intention of saying that. Weak. "All right, Black." Searching for any excuse, weren't you? He shoved the thought to the back of his brain and looked up, meeting Black's eyes.

They were crinkled again with a grin. "Good. Here's your chance to show me why you should have been teaching Defence Against Dark Arts, Severus."

"You know I should."

Black waved a chiding finger. "Hmm. We'll see."

"Better than that damned Umbridge woman-- and Lockhart, what a travesty."

"Next you'll be saying you're better than Remus."

It was truly a night for firsts; one forbidden conversation topic after another. Severus stifled an angry retort and forced himself to respond in the same teasing manner Black had used. "You think I'm not? You'll soon see. I will have you flat on your back on the floor before you know what hit you, Black."

Black's eyes flared. "Maybe I'll have to practise with Remus to compare..." Black drawled, still grinning.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I assume you mean practise sparring, Black. Though I think you'll be hard-pressed to do even that. Hard to imagine Lupin fitting you into his busy schedule-- too busy dating that Metamorphmagus cousin of yours."

Black's grin fell away. He straightened, giving Severus a quizzical look. "I didn't think you knew."

Severus shook his head. "Even if I weren't a Legilimens, Black, it's appallingly obvious. Lupin moons over the girl-- no pun intended-- and she's constantly talking about 'Remus'"-- he said the name in a sugary tone.

Black smirked. "They're not that bad."

"I beg to differ."

Black shrugged. "Well, you're right. You've no cause to be jealous."

Severus' mouth opened for a retort; he closed it, leaving it unsaid. When had his convenient affair with Black become any kind of cause for jealousy? Not that it is. Black's just joking. I wouldn't have been jealous in any case. This was nothing like true love or any such similar drivel.

Black hadn't appeared to notice the thought. All the more reason not to teach him Legilimency. Black smiled. "Well, shows what you know, though. Remus is stopping by Wednesday evening."

Severus bit the inside of his lower lip. Good thing I'm not jealous. "Hmm. So we'd be missing the next lesson in any case."

Black gave him a guilty grin. "Yes, at that."

Severus swallowed. "Well, then. I suppose we'll just have to make up for that in advance, Black." His mouth quirked. "Now, let's see... the last thing I remember you thinking about involved you, rope, a bed, and feathers."

"Did it?" There was a pink spot high on each of Black's cheeks.

"I believe so." His mouth quirked higher at Black's blush.

"Right." A laugh threaded through Black's voice. "Dunno why you're so opposed to being a cat, Severus. Right now, you look like you've got the canary."

Severus growled. "Just get up those stairs, Black, and into bed."

---

31 March 1996

Lupin's visit to Black on Wednesday left Severus at loose ends after dismissing Potter for the evening. After pacing around his office a few minutes, still fuming over Potter's complete failure to defend his mind, he decided to actually take Black's advice for once.

Severus walked out the door, into the corridor, and up the flights of stairs until he reached the gargoyles guarding Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Whizzbee" got him beyond the guardians and up the moving staircase.

He barged unceremoniously into Dumbledore's office, unsurprised to find Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, tapping at a stack of parchments before him. Dumbledore looked up mildly at Severus' entrance, gesturing at a chair.

Severus sat, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's not concentrating, Headmaster," he blurted. "He can't keep his temper in check."

Dumbledore blinked slowly. He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Now, Severus, I'm certain Harry is doing his best."

Severus shook his head, letting out an exasperated snort. "He doesn't trust me, Headmaster. We are less successful now than we were at the first lesson. He seems to honestly believe I am doing this for the sole purpose of giving the Dark Lord greater access to his mind."

Dumbledore pursed his lips and looked over the tops of his spectacles at Severus. "If Voldemort also believes that, it is all the better for you."

That is beside the point, and we both know it. He drew air between his teeth with a hiss, then let it out in a loud huff. "You know very well I've not the slightest idea what the Dark Lord is thinking. He's not summoned me in months."

Dumbledore tented his fingers before his lips and nodded slowly. "Troubling, to be certain."

Quite an understatement. Severus rose to his feet, pacing back and forth before Dumbledore's desk. Take this seriously, damn you. You asked me to train him. "And the boy is still seeing visions of the Hall of Prophecy, Headmaster. Of course it's the Dark Lord's influence."

Dumbledore sighed. "You are very likely correct. Which makes it essential to keep giving him lessons."

What the hell do you think I'm trying to do, Headmaster? Severus stopped and turned on his heel, staring at Dumbledore. "And what about the plan of me spying on the Dark Lord? I'm gathering very little intelligence here."

Dumbledore gave another measured nod. His voice remained calm. "Also true." He held Severus' eyes for a minute before speaking again. "And your suggestion, Severus?"

Severus threw his hands up and out before dropping them to his sides. We both know what I need to do. He said it anyway. "The only way I'll be of use to you is at the Dark Lord's side. I need to leave Hogwarts."

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "I'm not ready to lose you yet, Severus."

"I've no idea why," a familiar portrait added querulously.

Severus shot Phineas Nigellus' portrait a glare, then directed his attention back at Dumbledore. He laughed bitterly. "And when? We know that's the least of what's required. End of term? Next year?"

Dumbledore sighed, dropping his hands to his desktop. He drummed the fingers of his right hand against a stack of parchments. "I'd not have thought you'd be so eager to leave, Severus."

Because you think I enjoy trying to train Potter? "What?" he snapped.

Dumbledore's eyes locked with his. "Sirius Black. This war cost you fifteen years ago. I'd not thought you'd be so eager to give him up again, Severus."

Severus closed his eyes. It took a few moments before he could speak again. The images of himself in bed with Black played behind his eyelids, and he forced them behind a layer of innocuous thoughts. Too late. He said the first thing that came to mind in response, bitterness dripping from his voice. "If you can read it that easily, I'm slipping."

"No, Severus. Your skills are not lacking." Severus' eyes snapped open, watching him. Dumbledore's lips turned up in a sad smile. "Grant me the credit of being able to read something of you without resorting to Legilimency. I've known you twenty-four years, my boy."

"God knows I didn't tell him," Phineas Nigellus' portrait broke in. "Anything to avoid thinking about the two of you."

Severus deliberately did not address the portrait, though he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Damn it, Black told the house-elf to keep his mouth shut; he forgot the damned portrait. God, any room but the damned bedroom. He shook his head. "It's nothing more than--" he found himself unable to say the word. Not, he told himself, because it was a lie, but because he hated to tell his mentor that it was nothing more than a convenient fuck for the both of them.

The sad smile still played on Dumbledore's lips. He looked down, not meeting Severus' eyes. "Ah, but it's made you happy, Severus. You'll lose it soon enough. We'll have no choice, in the end. But why not enjoy it while you can?" He looked up again. "And keep trying, Severus. I have faith in Harry."

Severus had faith in Dumbledore. As for Potter-- Severus had no choice.

---

13 April 1996

Severus missed Umbridge's successful removal of Dumbledore as Hogwarts' Headmaster entirely; after Potter's Occlumency lesson, he had made his accustomed trip to Grimmauld Place to visit Sirius Black.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts practises were going as smoothly as their earlier Occlumency lessons. Black was rusty, and he was less powerful than Severus. He was, however, very fast, and Black's Occlumency skills meant Severus could not use Legilimency to anticipate and counter Black's next spell.

That made the practises helpful to Severus, as well, to his surprise. It had been a long time since he'd sparred with anyone who posed any challenge.

Lockhart was damned well useless. Though Severus admitted to having enjoyed sending that fool flying across the room with a simple disarming charm. I was almost popular, that day.

"No, look, Black," he said, stepping over and looking at the man sprawled on the drawing room floor. They'd moved the furniture against the walls to leave open space for their practises. "You're careless. The gestures work well enough, but you're sloppy. They're a little too wide. The only thing that saves you that you're damned fast-- it makes up for the fact that you're doing the spells so inefficiently."

Black glared at him, rubbing his wrist. "Couldn't just be that you enjoy beating me up, could it?"

"Black," Severus said, sighing, "you might ought to take my advice."

"I got Outstanding on my NEWT, you know."

"And I'm certain anyone trying to kill you would be very impressed when you told him so."

Black struggled into a sitting position, still rubbing at his wrist. "No, I know you're right. I'm just-- show me what I'm doing wrong."

"Like this--" Severus demonstrated at full speed, drawing a figure eight. He repeated the movement, moving slow enough that Black could follow the movement. "Control it with your fingertips, not your wrist-- or, God forbid-- your shoulder."

"And I'm doing-- what?"

Severus drew the figure eight again slowly, this time moving the wand with his wrist. "You see." He repeated the correct movement again. "Trust me-- it's faster this way."

Black draped his arm over his knees and sighed, shaking his head. His eyes narrowed in a glare. "You couldn't have mentioned this before, I take it? You're telling me I have to relearn everything."

"Now or later, Black. Pity no one called you on it at school."

His mouth twisted. "Hmm. That how you always beat us when we didn't catch you off guard?"

"Maybe." Severus looked pointedly at Black's wand, laying on the floor at his side. "Now, pick that up and try again."

Black grabbed the wand and rose to his feet. He moved it in a slow figure eight, this time controlling the movement with his fingertips. "Better?"

"Better." Severus gave him a sharp nod. "Now, stand over there, and we'll--" Severus broke off as a silver light entered the room. He turned to look. It was a Patronus; Severus did a doubletake at the form. Goat. Which means-- Message delivered, the silver goat faded. He looked back at Black. "We'll continue later. I need to go."

Black was frowning. "Severus. Who is it from? Who knows you're here?"

Severus pursed his lips. "Not now. Later, Black." He stalked out of the house and Apparated away.

He arrived just outside the Hog's Head. He swept into the pub, glanced over at Aberforth at the bar. Aberforth nodded briefly and darted his eyes toward the stairs, then looked back at his patrons.

Severus went upstairs, then down the hall to the familiar room. A little less familiar now; haven't been here in months. The door swung open at his touch.

Dumbledore sat in his accustomed position on the bed. Severus entered, closed the door, and took his seat on the hard chair against the wall.

Dumbledore's smile was rueful. "Sorry to disturb you, Severus. We have something of a problem."

Severus snorted. "I gathered that." Or you'd hardly be making it so obvious to me that you know precisely where and with whom I spend my time.

"Tomorrow, Professor Umbridge will be announcing she is replacing me as headmaster."

Severus' eyes narrowed. Dumbledore's face gave little away. "How did she manage that?"

Dumbledore blinked slowly. "That's hardly important. She would have done one way or another." Which means it has something to do with Potter. "In any case, our position has become even more precarious. The Ministry will be searching for me, and I dare not venture too far from Hogwarts. And I'm honestly not certain when we will have another opportunity to meet safely, Severus. Professor Umbridge will be watching all of you. Were that not enough, Voldemort will seek to exploit this opportunity."

Severus nodded.

"I fear for Harry, Severus. He's still not made progress with Occlumency?"

"No." Severus clucked his tongue, sighed. "I doubt he will."

Dumbledore's eyes met his, locked. "And you've not been able to remove Voldemort's soul?"

Severus' shoulder blades smacked into the back of his chair as he rocked back. His eyes opened wide. He forced the words through a tight throat. "How did you know?"

Dumbledore waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not a fool, Severus. Of course you tried. I assume it did not work?"

Severus' mouth twisted; he clenched his right hand tight, then forced it flat against his thigh. "No. I can't extract it. Perhaps if I had another to practise on-- or perhaps not." He shrugged. "It may, quite frankly, be impossible. Horcruxes are-- uncommon, to say the least. They would serve little purpose if it were easy to remove and destroy the creator's soul. The only way I know of to destroy a Horcrux is to destroy the vessel."

"By which you mean, kill Harry."

Severus shrugged, shook his head. "Yes," he said finally. With my Unbreakable Vow, killing Potter-- or even letting him die-- is tantamount to killing myself. He shoved the thought aside. It doesn't matter. We need him to live to defeat the Dark Lord. He offered the only hope he could muster. "But I've looked. I've still seen nothing about encasing a piece of soul inside another living being. It may be that the rules are different. It's possible that the boy can cast it out of himself-- I honestly don't know."

Dumbledore sighed. "Which means, of course, that Harry must learn to control his own mind."

Severus inclined his head. "Naturally."

Dumbledore sighed again. "Which means we are back where we started, Severus-- Occlumency."

Severus laughed humorlessly. "Quite so."

The pause stretched between them. Dumbledore finally broke it. "And how is Sirius?"

Severus stiffened. "Well enough. He's not untalented. His Occlumency has progressed quite effectively. We've been practising Defence Against the Dark Arts." Severus kept his voice carefully neutral.

"And?"

He forced a shrug. "He's out of practise, Headmaster. He's... not bad."

"I will not insult you by asking you to be careful, Severus. I know you are, and I know you will continue to be." Dumbledore sighed. "All the same, Severus..." His voice trailed off. Dumbledore gave him a considering glance, followed it with a firm headshake. "No. Enjoy what you can. Umbridge will undoubtedly approach you with a series of requests. She will want to locate me. Use your best judgment-- indulge those you can. Try hard not to expose yourself. Minerva has put herself too firmly on my side. The Ministry will not forget it."

"Of course, Headmaster." He stared at Dumbledore for a few moments.

"Now, get back. Tonight, she will be looking for all of you. Best you get back before she looks into your walks."

Severus quirked his right brow. "Quite." He rose to his feet, headed for the door. His hand was on the knob when he heard Dumbledore's voice behind him.

"And, Severus-- I'm no longer the headmaster. You could call me 'Albus.'"

Severus nodded stiffly. He stood in place a moment longer before turning the knob.

---

Dumbledore's prediction had proven quite accurate. Umbridge had intercepted Severus in the Entrance Hall immediately following his return from his "walk." Fudge stood at her shoulder when she announced her new promotion, her triple chins shaking at the declaration.

Her beetle eyes darted back and forth, seeking his reaction.

He gave her nothing, simply inclined his head and murmured his congratulations.

He had to restrain a hysterical laugh when Fudge bumbled in with a comment. "We're not so certain of Professor McGonagall's loyalty, Severus. We're concerned about retaining her as deputy headmistress." He gave Severus an overly dramatic speaking look. "Lucius Malfoy has always spoken well of you."

He would. The idea of being the trusted spy of Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Fudge was briefly almost alluring. Dare to seek success; who knows what opportunities you may be offered. "I think the students' parents will need some semblance of stability after this change, Minister, Headmistress," he said quietly. Umbridge narrowed her eyes. "Once your ascendancy is firmly established, of course, Headmistress, perhaps we may speak again." Her eyes lit-- she clearly understood ambition and greed. She thinks I think like she does. Good.

"Of course, Severus, of course," Fudge blustered. He gave Severus an exaggerated wink.

Severus nodded before departing and making his way to his office.

---

14 April 1996

The next morning, at breakfast, Severus was staring with narrowed eyes at Potter and the Gryffindor table. McGonagall had hurriedly explained the circumstances of Dumbledore's removal when he'd encountered her in the corridor. He supposed he could blame Malfoy and the other Slytherins for their collaboration with the toad, but, ultimately, Dumbledore would still be at Hogwarts if Potter and his compatriots had been capable of any sort of subterfuge. I'm surprised they lasted this long.

Potter had noticed his gaze and glared in his direction before leaning over his plate to speak with Ron Weasley. Don't glare at me; it's your own fault, boy.

He heard Umbridge's little girl voice behind his shoulder. "Professor Snape, a word if you please."

He looked behind him. He kept his face carefully blank. "Certainly, Headmistress."

"May we speak in your office?" Her voice was quiet, but he noticed McGonagall watching the exchange out of the corner of his eye.

"Naturally." He was surprised. It set him immediately on guard. He would have expected her to summon him to her own office-- glorying in her newfound power. Of course, rumor has it she can't get into the headmaster's office, even with the password. Still, that she had not suggested her own office hinted that she wanted a favour-- something he might be disinclined to provide.

She nodded, chins jiggling. "Good. Shall we?"

He pushed his chair back, leaving the remains of his breakfast, and walked quickly out of the Great Hall, to the stairs, and down to the dungeons and his office. He purposely made his stride as long as possible, enjoying the sound of Umbridge being forced to jog to keep pace. He opened his office door and gestured for Umbridge to enter; she was panting slightly.

She sat down. She smoothed at her hair as her breathing slowed, then folded her hands in her lap.

He sat down behind his desk, waiting.

Her eyes narrowed, tiny hard black specks. "Professor Snape, do you know where I might find Dumbledore? He is, of course, a fugitive from the Ministry's justice."

He shook his head slowly in denial. "I'm afraid not, Headmistress." If that were all, we wouldn't be here. But, asking her the reason for her presence gave her power over the situation; he wasn't ready to surrender that. He was tempted to probe with Legilimency; she'd shown no prior ability to detect it or defend against it; in the current environment, however, it was not a risk he was prepared to take.

Umbridge frowned. She was silent, clearly waiting for him to speak. When he did not, she spoke again. "I think the Potter boy does. I want to question him."

He nodded slowly. "That is not unreasonable, but I believe it is none of my concern, Headmistress. I am not his Head of House."

Her knuckles whitened, but her voice remained smooth. "I doubt he will tell me." She laughed, but it did not reach her eyes. "Foolish boy; it's all Dumbledore's influence, of course. I begin to believe he actually believes the lies about the Dark Lord's return."

Severus nodded again. She seemed to require further comment, so he said, "I feel certain you are correct."

She laughed again. "So, of course, while I have only the boy's best interests in mind"-- of course you have-- "I'm afraid he simply doesn't understand." She looked down at her hands, a deliberate gesture meant to convey humility. Don't bother. I understand you very well. She looked up again. Her eyes were hard. "I require Veritaserum, Professor. Do you have it?"

Ah. "Its use is strictly controlled, Headmistress," he temporised.

"Naturally. And you must realise I am authorised to use it." She smiled, a profusion of chins. "It is for the good of the Wizarding World, Professor."

He nodded. "Of course. And, yes, I do have some limited supplies of Veritaserum, Headmistress. I will be happy to provide them to you for your use."

Her eyes lit with triumph. She cooed in pleasure. "Thank you, Professor Snape. Your assistance is appreciated."

He opened his desk, removed a key. He rose and walked over to a cabinet on the far wall, opened it. He reached in, removed a vial of clear fluid, then closed and relocked the cabinet. He turned back to see her watching avidly. He walked back and handed her the vial with a slight bow. "Veritaserum. This is all I have. Three drops should be sufficient." He pressed his lips together. "I have been told that Potter displays some ability to fight off the Imperius curse, Headmistress. It is possible to resist Veritaserum as well, as I am certain you know. I would recommend you be very careful in your questioning."

Her brows drew together. The soft girlish tones in her voice disappeared. "I know what I'm doing, Professor Snape."

He inclined his head. "My apologies. I'm only pleased I was able to be of service, Headmistress."

She clutched the vial tightly in her left hand. She rose to her feet and waddled out the door.

Severus let out a sigh as the door closed behind her. God knows what Potter will say. He kept nothing so dangerous as Veritaserum behind a simple lock in his office; Umbridge had left with an innocuous calming potion. The visible effects would be similar enough to pass for Veritaserum.

Dumbledore had certainly not told Potter where he was hiding, and the Secret Keeper charm made it impossible to expose the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

There were other secrets, however, that Potter could expose: Severus' role among the Death Eaters, Potter's Occlumency lessons, the members of the Order. He could only pray that Potter would hold his tongue. The boy had an unfortunate history of speaking out of turn where Umbridge was concerned.

No help for it. I've done what I can.

---

Severus noted Potter's absence from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at lunch. Umbridge was also absent. Granger and Weasley were leaned close together, Weasley gesticulating wildly enough that he almost struck Granger in the face. Taken together, it was highly suggestive that Umbridge had seized her first opportunity to question Potter with her so-called Veritaserum.

Severus had also noticed that several of his Slytherins-- including Draco Malfoy-- were wearing shiny new badges in addition to their prefect badges. Had he missed them, McGonagall made a point of calling it to his attention when she sat down next to him at the staff table.

McGonagall's gesture encompassed Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and other of the Slytherins wearing new badges. Her whisper was furious. "I see your Slytherins have wasted no time, Severus."

"What did you expect them to do? Brave defiance is more in the Gryffindor line."

"You would defend them. I can't believe even they would collaborate with that woman."

And people think that I am partisan. "If you don't think that he"-- he nodded in Draco's direction-- "understands precisely how much threat that woman poses, then be assured, Lucius does."

"They're subtracting points!"

Severus sighed quietly. "I'm certain they are. And, while we argue about it, do please keep in mind that our illustrious headmistress is questioning Potter." He frowned at her. Why precisely do I pay better attention to your students than you do, McGonagall?

Her eyes widened. She half-stood in her chair. "I need to get him."

For all McGonagall cautions subtlety, she's not good at it. "The headmaster made a point of keeping both of you here; are you ready to abandon that so quickly?"

She resettled in her chair. "I know, I know. It..."

His response was forestalled by a series of explosions. A mass of students leapt predictably to their feet and ran out the double doors to the Entrance Hall. Severus made a move to hurry after them, but stopped a few paces away from his chair when a series of screaming rockets burst through the doorway, shot up to the ceiling, and exploded, raining streams of coloured sparks-- red, green, blue, gold. With the sparks came the smoke, which thickened with each subsequent rocket. He glanced at McGonagall, who had risen after him, then stopped when the fireworks had entered the Great Hall. Her mouth had fallen slightly open; she was gazing up, silent.

Severus extracted his wand from his pocket and lifted it, ready to Vanish the fireworks. McGonagall moved suddenly and grabbed his upraised arm. "No, Severus," she whispered quickly. What? She spoke in a voice that carried, despite the continuing explosions from the Entrance Hall. "Oh, dear. Whatever shall we do? Someone must fetch the headmistress. I'm not certain that dealing with this sort of problem is within our authority. Only the headmistress can possibly solve a problem of this magnitude." She gave Severus a hard look.

I doubt it's worth provoking Umbridge. Still, Severus was not going to defy McGonagall. He responded with a slight nod, and she released his arm.

Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, and the others were quick to catch McGonagall's meaning, and repeated her cries for the headmistress to come and deal with the problem-- though Severus noticed Flitwick surreptitiously cast a Bubble-Head Charm to avoid breathing the smoke, which had become increasingly oppressive.

Most of the students had already left the Great Hall to watch the spinning Catherine Wheels and wild rockets by the time the teachers made their way out to the Entrance Hall.

It's the Weasley twins, of course. Who else? For once, Severus felt almost in charity with them. His amusement grew when he finally saw Umbridge dashing madly about the Entrance Hall, casting spells on fireworks and wringing her hands as each spell caused them to multiply, enlarge, or scream. The fireworks were darting throughout the school.

It will take her all day.

It was petty and vindictive, and absolutely perfect. Severus summoned Umbridge to the Potions classroom several times to deal with fireworks over the course of the afternoon.

The first time she appeared, her hair was already stragging down her back and she had a sootmark across the front of her robes and another on her cheek.

"My apologies, Headmistress," he said, as she waddled in the first time. "I am quite naturally concerned that these fireworks might upset some of the more unstable ingredients."

She had glared at him, but dealt with the firework as some of the students snickered quietly. He had directed a narrow glare at his class. Well-trained, they had fallen silent. When Umbridge walked out of the classroom, Severus had allowed himself a slight smirk.

Umbridge was not intelligent. Being unintelligent and uncreative made her no less a danger.

Still, Severus was human enough to enjoy the sight of Umbridge running about for the rest of the day. Her robes were filthy and her hair visibly singed in several places by dinner.

She never came by to discuss Veritaserum or questioning Potter.

---

A few hours past dinner, Severus was sitting marking first-year essays in his office. There was a tap at the door.

He set his quill down with relief. Appalling essays; absolutely appalling. "Come."

The door opened a crack, and Draco Malfoy peered in. "Professor Snape, sir?"

"Come in, Draco."

Draco moved in with a quick smile, then closed the door behind him. The light glinted off of his Inquisitorial Squad badge. "Professor, Montague's missing."

Montague was the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Severus was not excessively fond of him, but Montague was an excellent Quidditch strategist, if an indifferent student. Severus lifted one eyebrow. "Define 'missing,' please?"

"No one's seen him since this morning, sir. He was in his first class, but not his second. It must have been something during break. We checked his room; we checked the Quidditch pitch-- he's just gone, sir."

And with those miserable fireworks, of course no one noticed until now. Severus' earlier fondness for the Weasley twins and their prank abruptly evaporated. So, where is he? Severus steepled his fingers before his lips. "I see. That would certainly seem to qualify as 'missing.' I shall, of course, look into it. Where was he when he was last seen? Whom was he with?"

Draco shook his head. "In Flitwick's class, that's all I know."

Damn. "Has the headmistress been notified?"

Draco's face twisted. "Her. No, sir."

"But, is not Montague also a member of the headmistress' Inquisitorial Squad, Draco?" He nodded in the direction of Draco's badge. "I am certain she would be concerned."

"With respect, sir, she's useless." He shook his head.

Severus smirked, then forced his lips smooth. "Your point is noted." It was not the time to glory in Umbridge's incompetence. He had a student missing. "Please rouse the house; have the students search it for Mr Montague. I will contact the other teachers and endeavour to discover what has become of our Quidditch Captain."

Draco sighed. "Thank you, sir."

Draco still stood in front of Severus' desk. Severus rose to his feet. "Go, Draco."

Draco gave him a quick nod and a guilty glance, then hurried out the door.

---

Severus spent the rest of the night searching the school. His initial attempts to locate Montague with magic were a complete failure. There were so many areas at Hogwarts that were shielded from locator charms, however-- the Room of Requirement, for one, the Chamber of Secrets, for another. Severus searched the Room of Requirement himself; it was empty. Only Potter could enter the Chamber of Secrets.

Hard to imagine Potter being that eager to punish Slytherin's Quidditch team.

Severus went down to the kitchens to request assistance from Hogwarts' house-elves. In between their wails of terror and bashing their foreheads into walls over having a student missing, Severus determined none of them had seen Montague. He set the more useful of them searching, then roused the other teachers.

The other teachers assisted until well after midnight, then left to seek their beds. Even Filch abandoned him. Severus even went down to the kitchens to request assistance from Hogwarts' house-elves.

Reports from Draco indicated that no one in Slytherin had seen any trace of Montague.

Severus stomped through the Entrance Hall for the tenth time that night, kicking at the charred remains of a firework. It's probably not the Dark Lord. He's one of Umbridge's assistants, so it's probably not the Ministry. He shook his head. If this is a prank, I swear I will rip him apart for it.

---

15 April 1996

Dawn arrived, and Severus stopped by his rooms to bathe and change his clothing before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. His eyes were dry, sinuses burning from lack of sleep.

Fred and George Weasley were holding court at the Gryffindor table, laughter and expansive gestures a clear sign-- if Severus needed one-- that they were responsible for the previous day's fireworks.

Montague was still missing from the Slytherin table.

Severus looked in Draco's direction. When Draco looked up, Severus shook his head slowly. Draco frowned, then shook his own head. So, they've not found him either.

Severus pressed his lips tightly together. McGonagall entered and sat down next to him. "Did you find him, Severus?"

Severus sighed. "I did not."

She frowned. "I'll ask Gryffindor to look." She gave him a piercing look. "But you-- Severus, are you all right? Did you get any sleep?"

He snorted. "Just see what you can find out, please."

She tapped her fork against her plate. Her eyes narrowed. "Severus, you've an hour before lessons start. Go get some sleep. You've done your best. I'll talk to Filius and Pomona. I swear to you, we'll find him."

Severus shook his head.

Her tone changed. While still quiet, her next words bore the air of command. "I mean it, Professor Snape. Go."

With a small sigh, Severus rose to his feet and left the Great Hall, ignoring Umbridge's calls after him. Let McGonagall handle it.

He went down to his rooms and climbed into bed without bothering to undress.

---

Severus was up in an hour-- still tired, but no longer shaky.

He gestured the first-year Hufflepuffs into the classroom. He made the day's lecture as short as possible before starting them on a practicum. The potion itself was harmless enough that his slowed reflexes should not pose any hazard.

He sat behind his desk rather than patrol the classroom as he normally would. The students shot him nervous glances.

He forced himself to rise out of his chair and check the potions at the end of class. Most were passable, some few good, some appalling, none exceptional. He dispensed his usual evaluations, then set them to cleaning up their stations.

One of the students raised her hand just before he dismissed them. "Yes, Miss Carleton?"

She rose from her chair, and was silent a moment. She licked her lips. Nervous. I'm surprised she spoke. "Um, Professor Snape, you said you'd return our essays today?"

He remembered the pile of essays he'd abandoned on his desk. "I shall return essays to you after Monday's lesson." Never apologise, never explain.

She nodded quickly, resuming her seat.

"Anything more?" He raised a brow. None of the students so much as twitched. "Fine. You're dismissed."

The rest of the day brought more lessons, but no updates on Montague's whereabouts.

Severus had nearly forgot he had Potter after dinner for Occlumency. He had been waiting to speak with McGonagall when he glanced at the clock and realised it was nearly six. He hurried down to his office; Potter had not yet arrived.

Of all times to try this, it would have to be today. The only bright spot in his Occlumency days was missing-- due to Montague's disappearance and Umbridge's installation as headmistress, there was no way he could justify visiting Black tonight.

He heard the strike of the clock-- six. Potter's late. What a shock.

While waiting, he extracted the usual three memories from his mind, one by one. Potter walked in just as he dropped the last memory in his Pensieve.

He had just taken out his wand to begin the lesson when the door opened, slamming against the wall. Draco.

Draco's claim that Umbridge-- of all people-- had found Montague was enough to garner Severus' full attention. Montague was trapped inside the school plumbing, and Umbridge couldn't get him out. Severus dismissed Potter, then hurried out of his office, up the stairs, and to the fourth floor bathroom. Draco was only a few steps behind him, explaining how Umbridge had come to discover Montague.

Severus burst into the bathroom to find water covering the floor. Umbridge was filling up nearly all of the space inside one of the stalls, talking to a toilet. "Now, Mr Montague, please don't worry. I've given you my word we'll get you out soon enough."

"I brought Professor Snape, Headmistress," Draco said.

Umbridge looked up and stepped out of the stall. She blinked rapidly. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy." She spoke in her usual cloying honeyed voice. "Professor Snape, as you see, Mr Montague is trapped inside the toilet."

Yes, I'm clear on that. "What have you tried?"

She looked briefly stunned. "I scarcely know what to try, Professor Snape."

Useless. Severus strode past her, took out his wand, and transfigured the toilet. The bowl stretched wide open to the edges of the stall, then up to the ceiling. The pipes within expanded as well. He moved his wand to his left hand. Reaching in with his right hand, he grabbed Montague by the collar and jerked him free. Severus moved aside and shoved Montague out of the stall, then released the toilet to its normal form.

He turned and stepped out of the stall.

Umbridge's mouth was open in an "O." Even Draco looked taken aback. Montague's face was twisted and red, his hair slicked with water; he swayed from side to side. He was gulping in air with loud sobs. Water sluiced from his clothes, splashing noisily on the floor.

Severus couldn't quite repress a glare in Umbridge's direction. God knows if the boy has anything broken. "Come, Mr Malfoy. Let's get him to the infirmary. Mobilicorpus."

"Yes, sir."

Severus didn't turn to see whether Draco followed; he heard the footsteps behind him as his spell carried Montague to the infirmary. Once there, he gave a hurried explanation to Madam Pomfrey. Montague was still sobbing; neither Severus nor Pomfrey was able to get anything out of him.

"Stay with him," he finally said, looking at Draco.

Draco nodded quickly, "Yes, sir."

"Good."

Severus left, making for his office. At least I can sleep tonight. God, I might even be able to visit Black. He opened the office door with a sigh.

Harry Potter stood behind his desk, bent over the Pensieve.

For a moment, all Severus could do was stare in shock. Finally, his brain started working again. He'd left his memories in the Pensieve, and Potter had decided to take advantage of it. Fuck.

He strode across the room, plunging himself in the Pensieve. Which memory?

Things swirled around him before solidifying. This one. It would have to be this one.

A younger version of himself was upside down, robes hanging over his face.

James Potter stood, cupping at a cut on his cheek. He looked furious and cruel. Exactly as I remember him.

Sirius Black looked on with narrowed eyes. Remus Lupin sat on the ground a few feet away, staring in determined focus at his schoolwork. Peter Pettigrew was almost bouncing in enthusiasm. We all should have known.

Lily Evans was flouncing away from the scene. He'd called her a Mudblood, he recalled absently.

Potter stood, back to Severus, observing.

Severus knew precisely what was left, and he didn't want to see it.

James Potter was about to remove Severus' pants. Severus flinched. He reached out and grabbed Potter hard. Potter's head swivelled around. Seeing Severus, his mouth dropped open.

Severus wasn't even entirely certain what he said to the boy as he dragged him out of the memory. Back in the classroom, he tightened his grip on Potter's arm.

Potter jerked, trying to free. The boy's face had gone white; his eyes were wide. Severus wasn't seeing Potter anymore; he was seeing James Potter. James Potter, the scourge of Severus' existence at Hogwarts. God, I despise him still. He felt a surge of pure rage. The only thing he knew is that he needed silence out of Potter. He dragged himself back under control long enough to demand it.

He was vaguely shocked to see that Potter was sprawled on the floor, shaking.

Potter was shaking his head, scrambling to his feet. His placating words made no impact on Severus' rage.

Having thrown Potter out with the admonishment not to return, Severus pulled his chair out and sank down behind his desk. He buried his face in his hands, feeling cold and shaky. God, if I'd left them in my head... he'd never have seen. And I have to face him tomorrow and the day after. It was tempting to take a page from Gilderoy Lockhart and simply Obliviate the boy.

The headmaster wouldn't like that.

Dumbledore wouldn't like the fact that Severus had thrown the boy out of Occlumency lessons, either.

His mouth twitched. He lifted his head, forced himself to rise. He lifted his wand and pulled the memories back into his head. God knows how many he saw.

He shook his head, sank down in his chair again.

He drew in a shaky breath, let it out. The next week was the Easter holidays; Dumbledore wouldn't be expecting lessons.

After that-- God, what? If Potter comes back and apologises...? He couldn't answer the question.

Severus sat behind his desk, staring blankly at the objects on his shelves, registering none of them.

When he looked at the clock, he realised more than an hour must have passed while he sat.

It was nearing when he usually called on Black. After Severus' quick departure Monday night, Black would hardly be surprised if he failed to come. Severus had been up all night searching for Montague; he'd had only a single hour of sleep. Slipping out of the school undetected would be more difficult with Umbridge as headmistress.

Severus drummed his fingers against the desktop; the sight of Black watching as fifteen year-old James Potter tormented him was etched in his brain.

If he knew, he wouldn't blame me for not coming.

Severus closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

He opened his eyes as he exhaled.

He rose from the desk, grabbed his traveling cloak, and walked out the door. He encountered no one when he stalked through the grounds to the boundary of the wards. Taking out his wand, he Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

Black was alone, waiting in the kitchen.

Severus grabbed him, pulled him to his feet, and fastened his mouth hard against Black's. He tore at the fastenings of Black's robes, throwing them to the floor. He ripped at his own robes, and shoved both of them hard against the wall.

Black's hands were as desperate as his own.

---

After, Black wordlessly led them to the drawing room for their Defence Against the Dark Arts practise. Severus was afraid Black would ask him about the goat Patronus, Severus' arrival that evening, or Occlumency lessons with Potter. Black let all three pass without comment.

Black had improved; he was faster. He'd clearly been practising moving the wand with his fingertips instead of his wrist. For once, he was able to knock Severus sprawling. Severus glared at him-- If I weren't half-asleep-- then accepted Black's offered hand.

Severus allowed himself to be drawn up to the bed after their lesson. Though he knew better, he lay entwined with Black, dozing, before extricating himself, dressing, and quietly leaving for Hogwarts.

---

27 April 1996

Potter was around Hogwarts through Easter holidays; Severus avoided him.

Potter did not appear on the first Monday after Easter holidays for Occlumency lessons, and Severus did not take him to task over it. Occlumency lessons had been an utter failure. They were unlikely to improve.

Besides, Severus found himself quite busy that evening cleaning up the swamp left by Fred and George Weasley's final departure from Hogwarts.

Montague was finally beginning to regain coherence. Severus' conversations with him had not established precisely what had happened, but Severus had concluded that Fred and George Weasley were responsible. So, he was happy to be quit of them.

Or, he would have been, had he had the opportunity to punish them first for making his life a misery.

Ceasing to train Potter in no way affected his evenings with Black, Severus told himself. He hadn't told Black of the incident with the Pensieve, and he didn't intend to.

After cleaning up the final remains of his swamp, Severus showered and changed his clothing. He spent about an hour going through the essays turned in by his first-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

He checked his watch-- nine. He put the rolled parchments in a neat stack, then rose to put on his traveling cloak. A knock came at the door.

He frowned, but moved back behind the desk. "Come in," he called. Did the Weasleys leave some final surprise?

But it wasn't Umbridge, McGonagall, or even Draco. The door opened, and Remus Lupin walked in, shaggy hair, shabby robes, and all. "What on earth are you doing here?" Are you a complete idiot, Lupin? Lupin shut the door behind him.

Lupin narrowed his eyes and sat across the desk from Severus. "Severus."

"Lupin?"

Lupin leaned forward in his chair. "Harry says you're no longer giving him Occlumency lessons."

Damn it. If Lupin knows, Black knows. And, very likely, Dumbledore knows as well. "Quite."

Lupin pursed his lips. "You must understand how essential it is for him to learn."

Severus' nostrils flared. "I do."

Lupin frowned, giving a faint headshake. "Then, why--?"

I'm not going to talk to you about the Pensieve. If by some slim chance Potter held his tongue... "I do, Lupin, but he does not. This is simply the end. He is making no attempt to learn. None. He simply stands there and lets me invade his mind. When he is willing to learn, he may finally be able to learn."

Lupin shrugged. "I'll talk to him, Severus, or Sirius will."

"No, you will not. And, even were you to do so, Lupin, I cannot continue to teach him."

Lupin paused. He seemed to be considering what to say. "I don't think you understand, Severus. Harry contacted me and Sirius. He was very upset. I think you would find he's not mocking you."

Well, apparently Potter decided to share. What a shock. Who else did he tell, I wonder? "The point remains. I will make no further attempts at this, Lupin. When he's willing to learn, the headmaster can teach him."

"I will tell Dumbledore, Severus," Lupin said.

Are we back in fifth year, Lupin? Going to tell, are you? "Go ahead. It changes nothing, Lupin. Potter has made no progress in three months of study. He has never succeeded in blocking me out of his mind. He doesn't want to block out the Dark Lord-- he thinks it's useful. Nothing I do is going to change that. So, turn around, get out, and try not to be seen."

Lupin sighed. "If you would only try--"

Severus snorted, cutting Lupin off. "And you think I have not been? I have been trying. It hasn't worked, and it will not." Now, get out of here before Umbridge sees you, fool.

Lupin looked down, studying his knees. He was silent for a few minutes. He looked up. "All right, Severus. All right." He rose from the chair, went over to stand by the door. His hand reached out to touch the knob, and he stopped. "Severus, could I trouble you to check the corridor?"

"Why not? You've already troubled me." Severus stood up and swiftly crossed the room. He opened the door and stepped out-- nothing. He motioned to Lupin, who walked silently out into the corridor. Severus watched him for a few paces, then turned back into his office.

He had no idea how Lupin had made it in. However he'd done it, he would have to exit the same way.

Severus closed the door, then leaned back against it.

He drew in a shuddering breath. Everything he'd said to Lupin was true. He'd been a fool not to give up on the lessons earlier.

But facing Lupin meant he had to face Black.

---

Facing Black was worse.

"You know you can't do it, Severus," Black said. "You can't leave him without protection." Black sat on his bed, bedding twisted around him. It was a very familiar way to find Black, though Severus usually found him undressed.

Severus gave Black his best glare. "As I told Lupin, he's not learning. The boy practically screams every thought he has. He cannot keep his temper--"

Black scoffed. "--And I'm sure you don't goad him at all--"

Severus shook his head. He looked away, studying the peeling wallpaper. "Black, do you honestly think the Dark Lord will coddle the boy? Do you think he won't frighten him? Or make him angry? Because he most certainly will. Black, you faced as much natural disadvantage as Potter, yet you learned because you put in the effort. He did neither."

"I know you, Severus. You could provoke a saint into a killing rage."

Severus looked back at Black. "And the Dark Lord cannot?"

Black slammed his hand against the bed. "Why didn't you try to help him stay calm?"

Severus took a pace forward, stopped. He met Black's eyes, willing him to believe. He had no emotions to go on; Black had sealed himself very tightly from Severus' Legilimency. "I've done nothing to goad him except exist, Black. Understand that. If my mere existence infuriates him so much that he loses control, I cannot teach him. And, further, very possibly, he cannot learn the skill at all."

Black frowned. He looked down. "Harry told me what he saw."

Severus gritted his teeth. "And did it amuse him?"

"No, damn it. Would you believe he was angry? He-- James-- and why did you even have that memory in the Pensieve anyway?"

Severus threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling. "As I said, Black. It is a question of control. It is far easier to keep from tormenting the boy when I don't have to remember one of the most humiliating experiences of my life when I look at him. He looks-- a very great deal like his father."

"Yes, but he's not James."

"I think I am far more aware of that that you are, Black." Severus met Black's eyes.

This time, there was a crack in Black's mental shield. Severus felt the wash of affection and grief-- saw images of James Potter: an easy smile that had never been directed at Severus Snape. Flashes of Harry Potter-- mostly distinguishable from his father due to scar, outsized clothes, and green eyes.

It wasn't an affection he understood. He never wanted harm to come to any of his students, but Potter was too bound up in Severus' responsibility to the headmaster to be seen only as a young student.

Severus sighed, shaking his head. "Black, I tried. I honestly did. I couldn't teach him this. It would do no good to continue it."

"Will you continue to teach me?"

"Of course. Why would I stop?"

Black's gaze dropped. He appeared to be staring at his clenched fists. "Thank you."

And that, too, Severus felt. A series of images-- or one image repeated again and again. Black, alone in this monstrosity of a house. Black, sprawled on the sofa with a bottle of Firewhiskey. Black, cleaning through the detritus of his family's past. Severus had the potent sense that his visits were providing Black the only motivation he possessed to live at all.

I don't want that kind of responsibility.

Severus wasn't certain whom he despised most for the state of Sirius Black's life-- himself, the Dark Lord, or Albus Dumbledore.

Black had looked up-- was watching him now. Black's own mental shield was firmly back in place now, a considerable relief, in its way. His face was calm, serious-- not without bitterness around the eyes. "Are we going to talk all night?" Black asked. "Come to bed, Severus." Black's hands reached up to his collar, unbuttoned his shirt.

Severus unfastened his robes, swept closer to the bed.

---

18 June 1996

Severus was sitting at dinner when Draco Malfoy entered the Great Hall. Severus had noticed the absence of the Inquisitorial Squad from the Slytherin table. He had also noticed the absence of Potter and his cronies. Even Neville Longbottom was absent. Umbridge was also missing. All in all, it boded ill.

Draco walked in through the double doors, then directly to the staff table. He moved up behind Severus. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy?" Severus kept his response low.

"The headmistress would like to see you, sir."

"Would she?" Severus lifted his fork.

Draco spoke in an urgent whisper. "I think she means now, sir."

"Ah. I see." Severus sat the fork down, then lifted the napkin from his lap, folded it, and set it beside his plate. "Well, heaven forbid we should keep the headmistress waiting." I detest that woman. He rose from his chair and looked back at Draco. The corners of Draco's mouth kept twitching. So, something to do with Potter, then. The boy was lamentably obsessed. He sighed. "Where is she?"

"Her office, sir." Draco moved swiftly in the direction of the doors. He walked fast; Severus thought it was eagerness.

Out in the Entrance Hall, Severus reached to touch Draco's shoulder. "Draco, a moment," he said softly.

Draco looked back, brows lifted. "Sir?"

"May I inquire why my presence is required?"

Draco shook his head and grinned. "We've got him this time, we really have. Umbridge caught him sneaking into her office-- Potter and all of his friends." He rocked up on the balls of his feet, then back to his heels. "He's finally going to pay."

Potter's a fool.. "I see." Severus nodded slowly. He sighed. "Well, then, by all means, let us go to Professor Umbridge."

Severus followed Draco to Umbridge's office. Draco preceded him into the room. The kittens are still repulsive, Severus thought as he walked through the door.

Draco had not exaggerated. Millicent Bulstrode held Granger pinned against the wall. Warrington had Weasley pinned flat against the floor; Weasley wore a gag that was developing a red spot-- his lip must be bleeding. Crabbe's arm was tight around the throat of Longbottom-- it held Longbottom pinned against Crabbe's chest. Severus identified the other captives as Ginevra Weasley-- not a surprise-- and Luna Lovegood-- interesting. These three also had gags tied tight over their mouths. Longbottom hit at Crabbe's arm. Crabbe's lips drew back; his muscles tensed. Longbottom made a muffled sound of pain through his gag.

Potter leaned back against Umbridge's desk; he'd barely glanced at Severus and Draco before turning his attention to the corner of the room.

Severus followed Potter's line of sight. Umbridge sat in a tasteless floral armchair. Typical. Her eyes were narrowed, but she wore a broad smile.

Umbridge asked for Veritaserum.

Severus took great satisfaction in claiming to have none.

Umbridge's claim that Potter had been using her fire changed the situation substantially. Who would Potter want to talk to, and why?

Severus studied Potter while carrying on his conversation with Umbridge-- claiming he had no Veritaserum available, claiming he had no non-fatal Truth Potions available at all. If you knew anything about potions, Toad, you'd know I'm lying.

Umbridge continued raving, and Severus stared at Potter. Potter looked up. The boy's face was white. Their eyes met.

So, why are you here, boy? Severus pushed into Potter's mind, where he met unexpected resistance. Of all the times for him to succeed in Occlumency...

Potter's eyes were desperate. His lips pressed tight togehter, and his hand clutched tight on the edge of the desktop.

Severus pushed again. Why isn't it working?

Potter shifted in place, biting at his lip. His eyes widened.

He's clearly upset. He was appalling at Occlumency. Why can't I get in? Abruptly, Severus understood: Potter was trying so hard to communicate that Severus couldn't penetrate his mind. If the situation hadn't been so desperate, Severus might have laughed. Trust the boy to come up with some new skill when it would be least useful. The odds were low that Potter had anything truly important to communicate, however. Potter surely thought it was important, but, in the end, it was almost certainly irrelevant.

Severus looked back at Umbridge, now standing in the center of the room. She was furious; she wanted to question Potter-- find Dumbledore, find Sirius Black, advance her standing in the Ministry. When he refused to help her, she placed him on probation. You may certainly try.

Severus bowed. When he would have left, Potter called after him.

And Severus' heart was thundering in his ears.

He hadn't been able to read Potter's thoughts, but he understood Potter's words perfectly well. Black. Potter thinks Black is in the Hall of Prophecy at the Department of Mysteries.

Severus turned back to face them all-- Umbridge, the other students, Potter. He met Potter's eyes again.

This time, the image hit with the force of a thunderbolt: Sirius Black, screaming, tortured. Captured, and being held in the Department of Mysteries.

The image played again and again in his brain. It was a moment before he could think. It may be false, he told his racing heart. It probably is. Potter's not a seer. And Black-- there is no reason for Black to be in the Department of Mysteries.

The image was not so easy to dismiss. Severus had been certain that Voldemort had another spy in the Order of the Phoenix. It wasn't Black-- it probably wasn't Lupin. Shacklebolt, though-- Severus had never understood why Shacklebolt would join the Order.

And Black was open; he was trusting. Shacklebolt might have lured him out of Grimmauld Place in the guise of protecting Potter. God knows Black was eager to get the hell out of that house. Severus knew Black very well-- under that scenario, it might very easily be true.

All right. I can do it. He forced himself to calm, surprised to realise no more than a few seconds had passed. He tried to project reassurance to Potter, but, by the boy's frantic gaze, it appeared he had failed. Well, Umbridge will keep them bound for hours. I've time. I need only check; it will be nothing-- some foolishness on the boy's part-- I can tell him later. Severus said something dismissive, ordered Crabbe to let Longbottom breathe, and left.

Severus swept out of the room, down to his office, and unobserved at last, whipped out his wand to cast the Patronus Charm.

His mind was roiling, and, in his confusion, he failed at first to realise his summoning had changed. This time, he had not thought of his long-ago sorting into Slytherin.

The new form stood before him: four-footed, shaggy-- a dog the size of a bear, glowing silver-bright.

No.

Severus winced; he knew more of Dark Arts and defence than anyone. Patronuses could change for many reasons. They were simply manifestations of happy memories.

Whatever it meant, it didn't mean that. He wasn't so much a fool as to think himself in love with Sirius Black. Love was a delusion of adolescents. He hadn't been in love with Sirius Black nineteen years before at school-- that had been potion-induced obsession. He hadn't been in love with Sirius Black fifteen years before-- that had been nothing more than lust and desperation. And he was by no means in love with Sirius Black now. Severus almost dismissed the silver dog and tried again, but time was of the essence. He could come up with an explanation later.

"Go," he said, hearing his voice crack on the syllable. It was gone in a gleam, a heartbeat.

He sat in his office, fingers tightly laced before him on the desk, waiting.

There was nothing for several minutes.

Severus shoved down his anxiety.

A Patronus was not subject to physical limitations, but even a magical beast took time to travel. The delay meant nothing, he told himself. The Potter boy was unreliable. The visions were being manipulated by Voldemort to unknown purpose. It meant nothing.

Still, he was shocked when the gleaming silver light walked through his office door, leapt onto his desk, sat, and began to clean a paw. It blinked slowly at him, striped tail flicking lazily back and forth.

This was a cat-- but not McGonagall's. Severus knew her form well. This cat was sleek and plump-- a spoiled pet. He studied the striped fur, breathing shallowly. Memory-- a night sitting by a dark lake. "But you are a cat; don't you remember 'the fair Selima'?" What had Severus replied? "Apparently you had an unconscious desire to see me drowned, Black. That's the only possible explanation for quoting that poem."

He reached out with his shaking right hand to touch Black's Patronus. Its eyes regarded him with disdain.

The cat vanished.

It was an answer to more than one question. He drew his hand back, touched it to his lips. Only then did he realise he was shaking.

Severus had to find Potter-- assure him the vision was false.

He rose from his desk, walked out his office door and into the corridors.

---

Severus tried Umbridge's office first.

Draco was waving wildly at the bats surrounding his head. Millicent Bulstrode and Warrington lay unconscious on the floor. Crabbe sat leaned up against Umbridge's desk, head lolled back and tongue protruding slightly between his teeth.

Damn you all. "Finite Incantatem." The bats surrounding Draco's head disappeared. Bulstrode, Warrington, and Crabbe were unchanged. Must have been disarming spells. Draco's eyes were squeezed tightly closed and he continued to strike the empty air for a few minutes more. Seeming to realise he was no longer under attack, his hands dropped and his eyes opened-- first a crack, then to normal size. "What happened here, Mr Malfoy?"

"They tricked us-- that miserable girl hit me with a Bat Bogey Hex. They ran out of here--" Draco's voice took on a whine.

I don't have time for this now. "And Professor Umbridge just left you here?"

Draco blinked rapidly, seemed to focus on Severus. "What? No. She left with Potter-- but it was unfair, sir..." Grow up, boy. You and Potter both need to realise that this is not a game. Severus slid into Draco's mind. The sequence of events was very clear-- Umbridge had left with Potter, Granger and Weasley. The Inquisitorial Squad had become bored and careless; their prisoners had seized the opportunity to escape.

Severus got only the images, none of the words. He cut off Draco's complaint. "Where did Umbridge take them?"

"Huh? Oh. Granger said that Dumbledore had a secret weapon."

Severus closed his eyes, opened them. Weapon?

Draco snickered, beginning to regain his composure. He sneered. "Granger was even crying over it, sir. Said they were trying to contact Dumbledore-- tell him the weapon was ready."

Granger's being creative; the girl's a walking textbook. Severus had the sense that the situation was spiralling rapidly out of his control. "Draco, do you know where to find this weapon?"

Draco snorted. "Umbridge wouldn't let us go, sir. Afraid we might use it on her, I guess. When I was fighting those damned bats"-- he scowled-- "I heard Weasley say he saw them going into the Forbidden Forest."

They're distracting Umbridge. "Draco, do they have their wands?"

Draco frowned. "What? No. I don't think so. We had them." His mouth twisted. "Well, the others took them when they escaped, but..."

Severus nodded. "All right. I shall deal with them when they return." Potter can't go anywhere without his wand. Whatever they're doing with Umbridge, they'll have to come back to the school for their wands. He breathed, finally calming. There's time. Severus glanced around. "Ennervate.

---

An hour later, Potter, Granger, Umbridge-- none had returned. It was then that Severus began to panic.

Running frantically around the grounds in search of one of them-- any of them-- he realised the truth or falsity of Potter's vision was irrelevant.

All that mattered was that Potter believed his vision was true.

Potter was an incompetent Occlumens, and an even more incompetent Legilimens. No matter how strongly Severus had projected that he would look into the vision, Potter had almost certainly failed to understand.

Knowing that Black was at home, safe, that Potter had a tendency of running off on his own world-saving quests-- encouraged by Dumbledore, no less... Potter would be walking into a trap.

I am a fool.

Severus ran to the boundary of the Apparition wards. He took a precious moment to send his Patronus after Dumbledore; this time, he didn't pause to agonise over the dog-shape. He Apparated directly in front of Black's house at 12 Grimmauld Place.

He ran up the steps, banged on the door.

When Lupin opened it, he almost ran him down.

"Is Potter here?"

"Harry? No, but I had wanted to ask you--"

"Not now." Too slow. "If he's not here, he's at the Department of Mysteries."

Black stood behind Lupin wearing something of an abashed grin, and Severus knew why-- not now.

Later-- there would be time later. Right now, Severus needed to convey the information as quickly as he could. "Black, Potter thinks the Dark Lord is torturing you at the Department of Mysteries. Umbridge captured him and his friends. They were off somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. She dismissed me-- I sent to you-- I thought they'd return. I can't find them. We need to get the Order to the Department of Mysteries. Now."

Black blinked. He seemed to be trying to process Severus' words. "Harry's in danger?" he said slowly.

Severus set his jaw. "This is what I've been saying, Black."

Black's eyes narrowed. "I'll go."

"No, Black, you stay here." That's just what we need-- to make Potter's vision a reality.

Black shook his head, frowning. "He's my godson, Severus. I can't just leave him."

Spare me from Gryffindors and their mindless heroics. Severus leaned forward, eyes locking on Black's. "No. You can and you will. You will not give them the opportunity to take you in truth. Stay here. Tell Dumbledore what has happened."

"I owe him, Severus."

Severus took a step forward. "Sirius, stay here." He met Black's eyes, held them. Perhaps he'd taught Black too much of Occlumency. Severus could not read past his barrier. Black's foolish smile was gone now. "Promise me," Severus said. "I've sent for Dumbledore. I must return to Hogwarts. I'll search the Forbidden Forest again-- send to you if I'm wrong."

"Moody, Shacklebolt, and Tonks are here," Lupin said. Severus started. He had completely forgot Lupin's presence.

"They'll do." Had all three of them been present when Severus' Patronus arrived? Severus didn't have time to worry about it. They could lose this war tonight-- if Potter was at the Department of Mysteries, the Death Eaters could use him to get the prophecy to Voldemort. They could capture Potter and give him to Voldemort, and then everyone's sacrifices would be all for naught. "And Lupin, keep him here." Severus jerked his head in Black's direction.

Black reached toward him, paused, then let his hand fall. "I want to talk to you, later," Black said.

Severus looked at him, nodded sharply. We apparently have things to discuss. "Yes, later." He turned and stalked out, Apparating back to the edge of Hogwarts' wards.

He moved to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Potter? Granger? Where are you?"

Nothing.

Severus knew very well that it was futile calling out after them into an enormous dark forest. He tried anyway. Entering the forest, he walked, trying the familiar paths, lighting his wand and parting brush before himself. He called after them again.

Several hours more, and he finally gave in. He dragged his aching legs back to Hogwarts and wended his way down to his office.

He'd give anything for that wretched map of Potter's. If he could only be certain where they had gone-- if he had found Umbridge or any one of them.

He sat behind his desk, rolls of parchment laid out before him, quill and ink ready to hand.

He dipped the quill in the inkwell, lifted it out-- then stared blankly at the doorway.

Someone would come. Someone would tell him it was all right.

If not-- they were all dead, one way or another.

As for Severus, he had the Unbreakable Vow to contend with. The clearest sign of Potter's continued survival was the fact that Severus was still alive.

---

Hours had passed. The night was growing old and Severus had long since laid down his quill. He was still alive.

If Potter survived-- if Severus lived through the rest of the night, he would have to talk to Sirius Black. He might, in fact, have to start using the man's first name.

If he lived through the rest of the night.

---

19 June 1996

Severus had sat behind his desk all night, unable to sleep. His eyes burned. His lips were dry. He couldn't keep from shivering.

It was after dawn when the knock came at the door of his office.

Severus straightened in his chair. He forced his face smooth. He clenched his hands until his nails bit hard into his palms, then released them and lay them folded on his desk. "Come."

The open door revealed Dumbledore.

Severus closed his eyes, slumping with relief. Dumbledore here meant Potter was safe, Umbridge was gone-- likely they were no longer hiding from the Ministry of Magic.

He heard the door close, then the creak of springs as Dumbledore sat in one of the chairs facing his desk.

Severus opened his eyes. He met Dumbledore's gaze; with the force of habit, Severus tried to pry into Dumbledore's mind.

He found it closed.

"The boy's fine, Severus," said the headmaster without preamble. "You were right-- he'd gone to the Department of Mysteries. The Order arrived in time to save him."

He sighed. "Thank God."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "We were able to capture some of the Death Eaters-- Lucius Malfoy, for one. They're being sent to Azkaban. Voldemort escaped."

Severus drew in a deep breath. "Expected." He shrugged. "Who else went with Potter? Were any of the children injured?"

Dumbledore looked down at his hands. His voice was sad. "Everyone was injured, Severus. The children-- they should be fine. Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom-- they acquitted themselves well."

"Why doesn't the boy think?"

Dumbledore looked up. "It's courage, Severus." He swallowed. Severus saw Dumbledore's right hand clench. "But, there's more you need to know."

"What? Why?"

Dumbledore spread his right hand flat, stared down at it. "Severus-- Sirius Black-- he left his house and went to the Department of Mysteries--"

"I told Lupin to keep him there, damn it! Did the Ministry capture him?" It was bad, very bad; he doubted Black could bear another stint in Azkaban, dementors or no.

Dumbledore nodded, still looking down. Dumbledore's voice was hollow. "I know, I was told. Sirius insisted. He was in a fight with Bellatrix Lestrage, Severus. She hit him. Do you recall the Veil? I don't know what spell she hit him with, Severus, but it didn't matter in the end. He fell through the Veil, Severus. He's dead."

His lungs were burning. He couldn't breathe. His hands were clenched so tightly that his finger joints ached. Dumbledore's words had ceased to penetrate. It couldn't be true. He'd asked Black to stay at Grimmauld Place. Lupin had promised to keep him there. Black couldn't have gone and got himself killed in a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange.

It was simply not possible.

Severus opened his mouth to say so, but the words that came out were, "It's the Potter boy's fault. If he had waited... if he had returned... If he had listened to me in any damned one of those cursed Occlumency lessons, this never would have happened."

Dumbledore met his eyes. "Severus, I'm sorry. I know you and Sirius had--"

Severus laughed mirthlessly. He slammed his fist hard down on the desktop. "You know nothing about it, Headmaster. Nothing."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I do, Severus. I saw your Patronus."

"Don't talk to me about-- I'm going back to my rooms. I can't-- not now." And, dear God, but tears were coming to his eyes. Everyone cried under torture; Severus' eyes had been wet under the Cruciatus Curse. Other than that, he hadn't cried in years-- not when he'd taken the Mark-- not when he'd betrayed Voldemort-- not when Black had been thrown in Azkaban. Snivellus, he heard teenage Black's voice ringing in his mind. He shoved the memory back. He made to rise.

Dumbledore held out a hand, palm out. "Wait. Severus, I know you don't want to hear this, and I don't want to ask this of you. But I must, Severus. We have an opportunity. Lucius Malfoy is disgraced-- imprisoned. Bellatrix Lestrange escaped, but not without the Dark Lord's assistance. There is an opportunity for us-- for you. Claim credit. Claim whatever you can."

Severus laughed. It hurt his ears; he couldn't stop. "You are asking me to claim credit for this? For Black's death?" His lips drew back. "No. I will not. I will have no part of this."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward. His voice was sharp. "I will ask this of you because I need it. I have no choice. The only thing that matters in the end is the defeat of Voldemort. I will use you, I will use me, and I will use Harry Potter however I must to do this. Voldemort does not trust you. The Death Eaters do not trust you. Play this as I know you can, and you will be placed where we need you to be."

Severus felt as if his heart and lungs had been ripped out. It might have been kinder if they had. Tears still pricked at the corners of his eyes. "I cannot do this."

Dumbledore shook his head. "You can, Severus; you must. If it will help, you can use the Pensieve-- put away some of the memories."

Grief was losing out to fury. You will not take those from me. "No. I earned those memories. I am keeping them." He closed his eyes, let his head fall back. "God!" It forced its way through clenched teeth. He pounded his fist into the desktop, once, twice. He dropped his chin and met Dumbledore's eyes again. His voice was filled will all the viciousness he could muster. "You know, Albus, there's not a hell of a lot to choose from between the two of you. You'll both destroy anything in your path to achieve your goal."

Dumbledore flinched. His right hand smoothed his robe against his thigh. "I, at least, mourn the destruction."

"That doesn't do the rest of us much good, Albus." Severus bit his lower lip hard. He shook his head; his jaw worked. "I swore to you; I will do this. I will do whatever it takes. But this, Albus, this has cost me everything."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know."

"Now, get out."

Dumbledore rose to his feet. Severus watched Dumbledore cross to the door. Dumbledore stopped in front of the door. "I am sorry, Severus. Sirius deserved better from me."

"Yes. He did."

Dumbledore opened the door, stepped out into the corridor.

When Dumbledore was safely gone, Severus swept his arm across his desk, knocking scrolls to the floor, showering them with ink. "Fuck," he whispered. He set his elbows on the newly desktop and lowered his face into his hands. It was never supposed to end like this. He laughed. It sure as hell was not supposed to end now.

And Black was gone. Voldemort had been resurrected because of his Horcruxes. Black had none. Those who feared death became ghosts. Black wouldn't be one.

And no magic could resurrect the dead.

Severus had allowed himself to care, and he would suffer for it. He felt the first prick of heat in the Dark Mark.

And, speaking of suffering, there was no time like the present.

He rose from his chair, stepping carefully over the pile of ink and parchment.

He owed loyalty to Dumbledore. Voldemort would be possible to manipulate. One day, if Severus lived, he might have the time to grieve.

---