Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix
Thank you to my beta, Nakhash Mekashefah!
Caradoc Dearborn was a wizard who didn't like to change his firm convictions, and lately, there had been too many changes in his life, Severus Snape not being the least of them. Truth be told, Caradoc wasn't really willing to alter his first impression of the sarcastic younger wizard, but honesty compelled him to recognise that, first of all, he was acting like a petulant child, and secondly, he owed it to Severus himself, if only to honour Hermione's wishes. So, to be forgiven for his hidden negative thoughts, he delved into the heavy tomes with more energy than usual.
Though he was used to silence and solitude, Severus's quiet presence disturbed him. He wished for him to speak, so he could lash out at him and force him into a sulking silence as he had often done when the younger wizard was his student. Somehow, he regretted that Severus was not afraid of him as other people were. His odd eyes – one blue and one orange – accounted for much of this; they were, unfortunately, easily recognisable, especially at the time the Dark Lord had been looking for him. Caradoc didn't want to know how Severus had managed to give his odd eyes to the body he had presented to Voldemort; it was taken care of with hooded eyelids and half-light. Only when he wanted to intimidate his interlocutor would he truly open his eyes and pierce the other with the full intensity of his gaze.
The problem was that Severus wasn't intimidated at all. He looked briefly at the younger wizard seated across the room, reading an old book and frowning at the same time, his face half-hidden behind the curtain of his hair. He knew too much of the habits of the former Death Eater, maybe because they were quite similar to his own. Maybe they disliked each other because they were too much like a mirror image of the other. When looking at Severus, Caradoc could almost see his younger self. True, he had never joined the Death Eaters, but then, even when he was an active member of the Order, he hadn't taken as many risks as Severus. Now he was retired for more than twenty years, except for the occasional potion for Albus.
He had never asked his old friend the reason for all the secrecy he had woven around him. Certainly, Albus could have told the Order that Caradoc was alive, and it would have relieved Severus of some of his duties – especially in potions brewing – but Albus had led Caradoc to understand that he had to give Severus the impression he was sorely needed. Caradoc had always thought he heard a hint of a lie in the reasoning, but maybe it was his resentment talking.
Severus and Caradoc's foray in the lore of magical beasts – especially phoenixes – led them on a hunt for rare ingredients, causing them to scare the whole village near Caradoc's house. Severus had, internally, admired his technique. The villagers still had unpleasant memories of the time when he had brought back the Dementors, even though few of them knew exactly what had happened that day. Seeing Caradoc on the hunt again had sent them into hiding, except for the brave ones who dared to confront him. None of them had stood up to him for long; Caradoc had a way of looking at them as if he was examining their immune system when talking to them, and nobody wanted to become his next subject of experiment. Under the scrutiny of his odd eyes, they usually squirmed and fled before he could tell them they were affected by a mortal disease; Caradoc had the reputation of being able to see tumours just by looking at people – some even said he could start tumours just by looking at people.
Once the nuisance of passing the village was dealt with, they had been able to Disapparate quietly – Caradoc's house was warded against Apparition, much like Hogwarts – to find ingredients related to phoenixes. Fawkes had disappeared along with Albus, but Severus still had an impressive amount of phoenix ashes, collected at each Burning Day. Part of them was still at Hogwarts, in his laboratory, but it was too dangerous to go there. Fortunately, Severus was not a believer in putting all his eggs in one basket and had stored a huge jar of ashes in his vault at Gringotts. As long as they had the key, the goblins wouldn't ask any questions.
If only strictly on the research field, Severus was satisfied with his work and Caradoc's. But as for the results, he was becoming more and more restless. They had attempted several experiments already, creating potions combining phoenix ashes, unicorn hair and horn, and even dragon heartstrings, which concentrated the strength of the dragon. The best result they had had was one more week than Voldemort's curse should have allowed. He had the feeling they were looking for something that didn't and couldn't exist, but he refused to admit it, because if he did, it would be condemning Hermione.
They were reduced to looking at basilisks, salamanders and even, despite Severus's misgivings, werewolves, for which Caradoc had extensive documentation. Severus was reading about the longevity of the basilisk – hoping maybe he could find something in this that he could make the most of – when the wards of Caradoc's house were activated. They both looked up and exchanged a quick glance.
"Are you expecting someone?" inquired Caradoc.
"I told no one I would come here, and those who could want to find me know all too well the… misunderstandings between us."
Caradoc stood up and went to the door, Severus close behind him. He opened the door just before the newcomer could knock on it. Severus's eyebrows rose slightly.
"Weasley, what are you doing here?"
"Professor!" gasped Ron. "You shouldn't come to the door like that!"
"Severus, it's Minister Weasley, now! Come in, Minister."
"Thank you, sir."
They sat in the library, each with a cup of hot tea and some scones.
"Did you say Minister Weasley, Arsenius?" repeated Severus, taking care to use his borrowed name. "What happened?"
"Fudge was discovered to be a sympathiser of the Death Eaters and was deposed. I was named in his place. I still don't really understand how. But it's not important now. It's about you. People are… well, some people don't really believe in you're dead and they're wondering where Hermione is."
Severus opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Ron began telling them the whole story about Percy, Lawrence and Isadora that Minerva had told him by owl.
At the end of the story, Severus was left half-wondering why he had never known he had such friends – though he would have been hard-pressed to recognise, or even consider, students or any member of the Golden Trio as friends. Ron and Caradoc were looking at him as if expecting him to say something.
"I would be careful with Miss Nott if I were you, Mr Weasley," Severus said finally.
Ron looked hurt.
"I wouldn't hurt her, Professor Snape!"
"I mean that you would be better to use caution where she's concerned. Isadora Nott is a ruthless young woman."
The young man standing in front of him looked thoughtful.
"Yes, I guess she is lethal. Percy's nothing if not a no-nonsense head, and for him to be easily convinced by Miss Nott, she has to be something special."
"Miss Nott is like a magnificent blade: she brings power to whomever knows how to wield her, but she's still sharply double-edged."
Ron nodded.
"I understand. I'll warn Harry about her, also."
"I'm glad to hear that you stepped out of Potter's shadow in the end, Weasley. It's done wonders for your brain cells," commented Severus dryly. "Now, tell me once again how it is that people are suspicious about my death."
"Well, blame Malfoy. His cryptic remarks about your 'death' at his trial cast some doubts on our story. But then everybody forgot, what with the information about Fudge and–"
He stopped suddenly, his mouth still open.
"What is it, Weasley? And stop gaping like a fish, you'll end up with the same intelligence."
"The Knights of Walpurgis. Lucius told us about them but then, in the chaos, we forgot! I forgot about them! And now, it's too late; Malfoy's brains have probably been reduced to a puddle of liquefied grey cells."
"How entirely distasteful. Why didn't you change that?"
"I would rather feed them to Aragog!" replied Ron. "But then, I haven't had the time to change many things yet. No matter how much I despise the punishment, I can't change it yet; it would cause an uproar in the Wizarding world."
Severus knew about Hagrid and his Acromantula friends in the Forbidden Forest – since Hermione had asked the half-giant for fresh Acromantula poison – and grinned slightly.
"I thought you were afraid of Acromantulas."
"True. But then, I don't like Malfoy, and at least he would have provided some food to Morag and the little ones. That would have been more useful."
Ron stood up.
"Anyway, Professor Snape, please don't forget to remain hidden. You should know that, as a spy," he added reproachfully. "Percy's not far behind me."
Caradoc and Severus walked Ron to the door, and just before closing it behind the young Minister, Severus said:
"One last thing, Weasley. For the Knights of Walpurgis… you should ask Miss Nott and Mr Higgs."
As Caradoc closed the door, Ron was still gaping in surprise, inwardly cursing himself for having forgotten that Severus probably knew as much as Lucius Malfoy ever had on the subject of the Knights of Walpurgis.
Caradoc threw a curious glance toward Severus who groaned.
"Don't ask. He is… was one of Potter's sidekicks."
"And yet you spoke with him almost civilly."
"I was civil to Fudge despite his ineptness. I can't do less for Weasley."
Caradoc didn't insist and they both returned to their books.
"What about basilisk blood?" asked Caradoc casually as soon as they were back in the library.
"And where do you intend to find it? The basilisks are supposed to be extinct, and the only one I know of has been dead for several years now. I doubt there is anything to recover from its cadaver, providing that Albus didn't do anything drastic with it."
"True, true. But werewolves–"
Severus sighed.
"Caradoc, if I am to drink anything every full moon, I'd rather it be something less foul than the Wolfsbane Potion. Though Lupin was probably the best in the lot, I'm still not too keen on being that much like him."
"Prejudices always take a long time to die…"
"You can talk, you have quite a few of them," replied Severus tartly. "In short, I don't want to have anything to do with werewolves unless there isn't any other option."
"Point taken."
Severus knew that Caradoc was probably vexed by his slighting the werewolves; the old Potions master thought them to be fascinating, but Severus doubted that he had ever nearly been ripped to shreds by one of them while young. It was the kind of event that marked one for life.
They quickly resumed their quiet life and would soon have forgotten about Ron's warnings if Severus, quite irked at having forgotten everything about the outside world so intent was he to find Hermione's cure, hadn't begun to read the newspapers every morning. Even the Daily Prophet was better than nothing for one who knew how to read between the lines. He thought for a moment about subscribing to the Quibbler, but decided that he had no use for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and the likes.
Splashed across the front page for the first week after Ron's visit was the story of Percy Weasley and his trial in front of the Wizengamot. He had been condemned to Azkaban for two weeks, for assaulting a 'minor' – obviously, the journalists didn't know what they were speaking about, since Isadora wasn't a minor anymore. Strangely, there weren't any pictures of Isadora, though the journalist made a reference to her 'uncanny beauty'. Severus knew too much about the young witch, understanding her reasons for avoiding cameras.
Even the most skilled wizard had trouble hiding their true nature from moving pictures. If Voldemort had reasoned a bit more like a wizard, he would have known this and used it to his advantage. It was the Knights of Walpurgis's motto, or almost; a reminder of why the Muggle-born wizards – and even the half-blood wizards – were not as good as the pure-blood ones. The problem was that they were too set in their old ways and refused any progress that could come from the Muggle world.
As Severus read his newspaper with as much concentration as his research books, he didn't miss the snippet fifteen days later saying that 'Percy Ignatius Weasley left Azkaban today, free to assault innocent young witches again!' Whoever that journalist was, he certainly had never met Isadora. All in all, Severus would rather pity Percy than the young Slytherin witch, as Isadora was far more dangerous than Percy would ever be. But, as the circumstances were, he wouldn't say anything against Isadora, since she had done it all in order to help him – or so he hoped.
But anyway, both Caradoc and Severus were on their guard when Percy came knocking at their door.
Caradoc had never claimed to be a nice man and being in front of Percy Weasley didn't bring up any ddeply buried surge of compassion. The young wizard was haggard, his eyes haunted by unknown horrors, and Caradoc was unable to say whether the feverish glow in his pupils was usual or if it came from his stay in Azkaban.
"Arsenius Jigger?" he asked politely.
"Himself," replied Caradoc gruffly. "What are you doing here? I don't like to be disturbed during my research."
The abrupt answer didn't seem to unsettle Percy.
"I'm Percy Weasley, mandated by the Ministry to inquire about Severus Snape, Potions master at Hogwarts until very recently. Do you know him?"
"I had him as apprentice when he was just out of school. After that, our paths went different ways and I can't say I regretted it."
"Did you receive any letters from him?"
"Mr Weasley, unless your superior thinks the world of you and forgot to tell you, you should have been told by whoever sent you on this mission that Severus Snape and I were never on the best terms. He was an arrogant brat at the time I had to teach him: devious, cunning and disrespectful. And I treated him accordingly. I doubt very much that he kept a fond memory of his time as my apprentice."
"From your description, I take it you know he is a Slytherin. Coming here to hide would be the most natural thing to do, since it would be the last place his trackers would look. Would you mind if I search your house?"
"Yes, in fact, I would mind terribly," replied Caradoc, crossing his arms on his chest forbiddingly. "You would disturb my current research."
"I have the authorisation from the Ministry, Mr Jigger," said Percy almost regretfully. "Should you interfere, I'm allowed to perform a Body Bind on you during the time it takes me to insure that Severus Snape didn't find shelter here."
"Then tell me why you are looking for him. I thought he was dead, and I hardly consider that fact being criminal."
"It is believed that Severus Snape is alive, is the cause of the disappearance of a war hero, and may hold back some information regarding the Death Eaters. The Ministry only wants to ask him some questions."
"Then do proceed. The chamber on your left should prove interesting for you. It contains Dementors. No doubt they will be a treasured reminder of your time with them."
Percy's face went several shades paler and Caradoc continued perversely.
"Naturally, the same could be said of Snape. He doesn't like to be near Dementors, either. Scars from his past, you know. But Crouch probably told you all that when you were his assistant."
No matter what, Percy was not deterred and looked at the three Dementors through the heavily warded window before checking each room of the house. But there was nothing to betray another's presence. Saluting stiffly, he left the house and Caradoc made a show of resetting, audibly, the wards behind him.
He hurried to the room where the Dementors were and opened the door hastily. One of the black silhouettes came toward him and slipped outside, all the while pushing back his hood to reveal the sallow face of Severus. Caradoc ushered him wordlessly to the library, calling his house-elf for hot tea, chocolate and scones.
Though he would deny it until death, Severus was shivering near the hearth, trying to recover from his stay in the Dementors' room. He didn't remember how bad it had been earlier in his life, but he could have sworn that it had been child's play at the time compared to what he had just experienced. Maybe it was because he now had some happy memories, which he hadn't at twenty. Or maybe it was because time had distorted his memory.
After several pieces of chocolate, the shivering subsided but, to Caradoc's unease, the fever in the dark eyes didn't ebb away. He hadn't been very enthusiastic at the idea of Severus hiding with the Dementors, though he had to admit that it ensured, at least, that Percy wouldn't look too closely, considering his recent history.
"Are you well, Severus?" he asked, concerned.
"The Dementors, Caradoc!"
"Yes, I know, you were with the Dementors," he replied patiently, talking to him as to a young child. "Is their influence still not gone?"
"No, no, you don't understand! We had the answer right under our noses the whole time!"
Caradoc stared blankly at the younger wizard, who had stood up and seemed ready to shake him in frustration for his slow understanding.
"We had?" he said noncommittally.
"The Dementors!"
And finally, light dawned and Caradoc could only gape in shock at the sheer madness of the concept.