A/N: Chapter the eleventh. Nearly there. I would just like to say that I would generally trust Severus Snape a great less than as far as I could throw him (which is remarkably little, considering I'm not terribly strong and he'd probably hex me on sight, for the hell of it), but I'm using him for my own purposes, because, in all canonity, it's still rather a toss up, and I think I'm justified, so long as I can make it make sense. There may be a side-story about Snape and Jezebel, if I get this finished this summer. Still not a Sue, I promise, and probably not even a romance. I won't say too much yet, but I'm seriously thinking about the idea.

Thank Als for beta-ing, and for letting me know that part of this didn't make sense.

Warnings: Same as previous. Also, I apologize if you don't like OCs (original characters), but I'm trying REALLY hard not to turn them into Mary Sues.

Disclaimer: Same as previous.

I don't recall exactly, but I think I tried to pretend that whatever was happening wasn't, and I probably shouldn't have been surprised to find that I was no longer wearing my own clothes, as I sprinted across the hot sand of the arena. After all, nothing else about this made any sense, from the Coliseum itself to the lion I knew was very likely right behind me—of course it had to be an illusion, a mind game manufactured by Voldemort. Even Dumbledore said he was an "accomplished Legilimens;" how could I expect to have any control at all, when Harry had such a hard time even teaching me to resist the Imperius Curse?

Instead of my robes, I was wearing a long-ish cotton shirt and some sort of skirt that was made out of strips of leather, and a pair of worn leather sandals. In short, it seemed that I'd been dressed up as a gladiator—that much was more or less confirmed by the sword my right hand was dragging across the sandy ground of the stadium.

I braced myself for the beast I knew was behind me, but when I didn't feel claws or teeth rending my flesh, I slowly turned, wondering if I could get that lucky. I knew I couldn't before I turned around, though, and sure enough, I watched a long, lean lioness deliberately emerge from the cool mouth of the tunnel I'd been standing in only a moment before. The most frightening thing about this brute was her eyes; instead of the natural, expected hazel-brown, they were Mel's icy blue ones.

The sun glared down on us, scorching me, but I took only distant interest. If I gave her half a chance, I knew she'd kill me. I didn't dare look away, though she swaggered nearer and nearer. A terrible, almost jeering snarl escaped her curling jowls, and I tormented myself with images of gore and bloodied pieces of human bones. (That's the last time I let Hermione tell me about ruddy Muggle history (1)!)

All at once, I realized that I still had a sword, but at the same time, I knew it wouldn't be enough to help me much, and I dropped it almost immediately, stumbling a little. For a moment, I wondered why the hell Voldemort had picked ancient Rome for his mind games, but then I decided it could wait until I wasn't being stared down by a witch-turned-lioness.

She was pacing closer now, taking her sweet time getting to me as I backed further and further toward Harry's post. I heard a groan from him, and I looked back without a thought. The lioness lunged, and I realized a split-second too late what I had done. My head whipped back around to meet the snarling maw, and all I could think was how much this was going to hurt.

A set of claws tore down my chest, and I shrieked, but then I couldn't feel it anymore. The rest of the world seemed to have disappeared, except for an unholy chuckle that had to belong to Voldemort. Then, however, even that was gone.

MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM

I don't know how long I floated in darkness. It could have been hours or moments. All I know is that, eventually, there was a flicker of faintly bluish light off to my left. I tried to move toward it, but found there were heavy chains binding me to what I guessed had to be a wall of some sort.

"Be still," a female voice whispered, seeming to echo in the emptiness. "I'm risking a lot for you." There was something familiar about that voice, but I couldn't quite place it, and stopped trying after a moment, as she began to speak again. "Don't speak. Don't move. Just watch."

A blob of glowing color appeared in front of me, and I watched it form into distinct shapes. Then, a voice I did recognize, and again I wondered what the hell was going on. How was I seeing this? Was it just another game?

"What is it?" The curt voice of one of my least favorite people on the planet issued from beneath the cowl of the cloak, and I felt a hot wave of fresh hatred burn through me. The hood, oblivious to the witch's unseen onlooker, moved from side to side, I guess to see if anyone on the street was watching.

Then, her voice: "It's not safe here."

"It's not safe anywhere." Snape contradicted her, still looking up and down the street. "Come on."

With that, he grabbed my host's arm and they Disapparated, turning my vision off for a moment, as well, giving a few moments in darkness to wonder again. Was she inside my mind?

When the view reappeared, it was much, much darker outside. I thought we might be in a forest somewhere, but Snape lit his wand and I saw we were at the end of a small, seedy-looking street without a street sign. "This way." he hissed, pulling the woman down the row and toward a shack that looked even more run-down than the rest of them. There was a window broken on the front, and the door looked like it was just barely hanging on its rusty hinges. There was no peeling paint—but I assumed that was only because all of it had peeled off a long time ago.

Snape waved his wand, and then opened the door, hurrying inside with the witch in tow, quickly shutting the door behind her.

He looked around warily, then pulled his cloak off, tossing it over a rotting chair and stalking into the next room, his wand still out. Jezebel followed quietly, her wand also out. The next room was full of junk, most of it as badly-off as the chair in the front room. It looked like someone might have lived there, once, but had collected everything into one room before moving out.

"Now, what is this about?" I must have been inside her mind, in order to see this from her point of view. That had to be it, though as to why she was showing me this, I had no idea. Instead of thinking any more about it, I only watched them.

"You wanted a report on Him."

"Yes."

"He has the boy."

"At Beast's?" I wasn't sure what he meant, but kept listening (2).

"No. Kitty's, but Beast's there, too."

Snape swore under his breath.

"We need to go to the Apothecary." he snarled, stalking out of the room and snatching his cloak before storming out of the shack, not bothering to reset the wards I guessed were there. I was surprised Jezebel didn't say anything as she closed the door and followed, but I guess she trusted him. More than I can say for myself, even now. There are some feelings you just can't shake, you know?

When they rounded the corner, Snape grabbed her arm again, and Disapparated, this time without even looking, and my view disappeared once again.

MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM

This time, when I could see again, I recognized where we were: Snape was arguing under his breath with the Aurors stationed at the Hogwarts gate.

When it looked like they were about to duel, Jezebel spoke up. "I must see the Headmistress." she insisted, and I felt my mind go rather hazy. The Aurors traded a glance, looking reluctant.

"Call her down here, if you must." Snape added impatiently, shooting a half-glare at Jezebel.

One of the Aurors sent a Patronus up to the castle, and we waited for her in silence, Snape and the Aurors still hostile. Jezebel, however, seemed quite calm. A few minutes later, McGonagall came hurrying down the lawn, accompanied by another Auror.

"Really, now, who is it—?" she snapped, looking very tired in the faint wandlight.

"Minerva," Snape said quietly. "I have news that would be of great importance—"

"You," she snarled. "Important news! Ha! What makes you think I'll believe that? Arrest this man," she told the Aurors, who advanced on him with their wands.

"Minerva!" he called as she turned to walk away, "You'll regret this!"

"No. I don't think I will." she snarled over her shoulder, a bitter smile on her face.

"Minerva. Listen to me. I know where Potter is." Her mouth fell open in shock, and the Aurors froze, though their wands still covered Snape.

"Liar." she finally sighed, turning away again.

"I will not grovel, Minerva. I know what you think of me, and I will not deny it; I have done what I had to in order to fulfill Dumbledore's purposes—"

"How dare you use his name, you foul—"

"Think of the boy." Snape turned away this time, taking Jezebel by the arm and walking down the road toward Hogsmeade. I didn't understand why he hadn't Disapparated—after all, those three Aurors were still under orders to arrest him!

Then, however, McGonagall told the Aurors, with a long-suffering kind of tone, to open the gate. "Where is he, Severus?" she spat, striding briskly down the path behind us.

"I knew you'd see things my way." There was disgusting smugness in his tone, and I hated him even more, even as he told her where she could find Dolohov's manor, and exactly which painting to speak to in order to get beneath the manor, and then even which turns to take to find Harry.

"Severus," she said as he began to walk away. "You're still under arrest."

"I think not," he shot back, and I would have sworn he was grinning, in that sickening way of his. This time, he did Disapparate, Jezebel in tow.

MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM

(1) Magical maladies don't bother him as much as Muggle ones, because often, magic ones can still be healed by magic. Muggle ones can be exceptionally gruesome, and he doesn't understand how anyone without magic could do that.

(2) Quick code/explanation of how my mind works: BeastBellatrix. Snape may have known her as 'Bella', which means 'beauty' or 'beautiful'. Beauty and the Beast is actually a wizard legend that Muggles got ahold of. In the original, Beauty had Multiple Personality Disorder, which, in the wizarding world, is kind of like a Jekyll and Hyde case. So really, Beauty IS the Beast—which is quite appropriate for Bellatrix.

KittyAntonia, Dolohov's kid. 'Kiddie' sounds like 'kitty'.

ApothecaryHogwarts, because he used to be the Potions master, and potions usually need things from the apothecary, even if the wizard has his own cupboard of ingredients.