Authors Note: Can I just say to everyone who has been reviewing, that this story would definitily not have reached this point without all your wonderful support. Round of applause for my Beta Reader Erin, her patience is almost saitntly:grin: I have added a part after she posted it back to me so please forgive any errors as they are mine. Well, here we are, my own version of book seven, I hope you enjoy! As before I own nothing everything you recognise is frmo the Potterverse which belongs to J.K Rowling.

Chapter Ten - The Lion and the Snake
Hermione looked around his chamber thoughtfully. The images Crookshanks had shown her could only have been from a few hours before. He had been back, that much was evident. The portrait had been left slightly ajar; she had seen how Crooks' tail had conveniently caught in the door as Severus had rushed out, intent she thought, of making it out before getting caught.

If I were a Pensieve, where would I be? She thought to herself. The bookcases covered three walls. No other doors were visible in the room, but he had to sleep somewhere. Running her fingers lightly over the shelves and casing, she searched for a false door of some kind. She browsed the titles at the same time, and couldn't help but feel excited at the number of volumes he possessed. They all seemed to be sorted orderly by subject and then by author. As she skimmed some of the defence texts before her she noticed something decidedly out of place. She blinked, thinking for a moment that her mind was playing tricks on her, but no, it was still there.

The Wizard of Oz

With a smile and an idea, she remembered that he had been in fact a half-blood, one who had been brought up in a muggle environment. Thinking on all the old movies she had seen, she pulled the top of the book down. Sure enough the bookcase suddenly opened to reveal another room.

Hermione stepped into the room and found that it was not a bedroom, but another study. This one contained even more rare books and scrolls. The mahogany desk sat in the middle of the room and on top of it was the Pensieve. Aware that every minute she was there for she risked the potential of discovery, she shrunk the Pensieve, and cast a sealing charm to stop the contents spilling out. She left the room, this time taking the care to ensure that the door was properly closed.

Hermione and Luna had met in the room of requirement again and were sitting side by side on an over stuffed couch. Hermione had decided to show the letter to Luna, hoping to gain some sort of insight into what the Headmaster had written to her.

Luna's wide eyes seemed to become even wider as she read.

Dear Miss Granger,

I am dead, or at least as close to it to be of much use. Out of all the people I have tried to protect from the information contained in this letter, you are the one whom I believe has the most chance of ensuring that my wishes and plans come to fruition. I have left everyone in the dark about the events of the last years, not because I did not trust them, but because I knew that many of the things I was allowing and in some cases manipulating into being would have been met with much resistance, both from my wife and Harry. I trust you know to use the knowledge to the best advantage for the Order. You will be privy to my most private secrets, some you will not be able to reveal.

The first thing I will tell you is about Severus, as it is no doubt what you crave to know the most. He is my most trusted friend, I realize you may not think much of this after my recent treatment of him, but I beg of you to understand the position we have all been in. He is loyal only to me; I have ordered him to kill me. He is innocent; I was dying anyway, as the cursed ring ate away at my life force. When he was forced into the position of making an Unbreakable Vow before Bellatrix Lestrange he did the only thing he could to maintain his position. The vow was meant to be to watch over Draco, to ensure his safety, but Narcissa slipped in an unexpected line, that if Draco couldn't fulfil the task, then he would. Severus could do nothing other than go along with the vow, it would have been too suspicious not to. I have not had time to inform him yet of whom he should contact with information. I leave it to you to find someway of getting a message to him, that you are to be his contact. Harry must not know the truth, if you feel you have to tell anyone from the order, I recommend the services of Mr. Lupin; he is trustworthy and a very good listener. I also feel that sharing this information with Mr. Weasley may not be safe; he has not been trained in Occlumency as you have. He is likely as much a target as Harry and yourself; we could not risk such information in this way. I hope you can understand this.

Lucius Malfoy is no longer in Azkaban. He has been a spy for me these last twenty years, and his information has been invaluable in this time. Do not blame Lucius for Draco. He had to make sure that his family never suspected a thing about his true loyalties. Asking Draco to take this knowledge on could have put all their lives in jeopardy, so he had to make the very difficult decision to raise his son as his 'friends' raised theirs. You may be aware that Harry is related to the Malfoy's; I feel that the time is coming when he must now know this. But wait until Lucius has returned to give him this news. After Harry's parents died I fear I did a terrible thing. I denied Lucius the opportunity to take in his cousin's child. If I had told the truth about Lucius' role in the first war his name would have been completely cleared. Instead I gave him no choice but to plead Imperio, making it impossible to leave his days as a death eater behind. All Lucius has wanted was his family and their life together, instead I put him in a position where not only has he been forced to keep his own son at a distance, but has robbed Harry of a family who would have loved him and raised him among our kind. I cannot begin to say how wrong I was in this decision, and I expect Harry, once he truly knows Lucius, will never forgive me for it.

Lucius is presently on a mission for me, it is hoped that he may be able to bring help of some kind to the Order. Alert Severus that Lucius will be contacting him and tell him to send Lucius to you.

I have made Narcissa the secret keeper for Grimmauld place; it seemed to be the best choice. She will be at the house most of the time, ensuring that the secret cannot be broken. I have sent Draco there too. Give the boy a chance Hermione. You have seen a side to him that many have never even suspected, help them to see him for who he really is, and help him to find himself. He will need a friend; I hope you will be able to assist in this matter.

Narcissa will be coming to the school ten days from my death to meet with Minerva, I want you to vouch for her, be present at the meeting with the box. There are four numbered vials in it, number one has my memories of Lucius, show them to Minerva.

Vial number two contains my memories of the prophesy concerning yourself and Severus, and all the memories he once showed me of you, I hope you can understand his recent actions after viewing these.

The third vial contains my own memories of giving Severus the order to kill me, keep this safe until the war is over, or until such times as you deem it necessary.

In the last vial is all you will need to know to advise the Order in my absence. As they say in the muggle comics with great power comes great responsibility. Much of what you may see in this will shock you or anger you, I only ask that you realize that nothing is fool proof to a sufficiently talented fool, such as I have been at times. Even the best of us make mistakes, even in the face of the glaringly obvious.

I place my trust in you Hermione Janica Meadows-Prewitt. I know you will not fail,

Affectionately,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

P.S. Enclosed in the box are also a few letters which I would appreciate you mailing for me when you have the time.

P.P.S. One of the letter is for your aunt, Molly Weasley, I have explained your situation and connection to her, at this stage of the game you are as much a target now, as if the truth were already known about you, I see no reason for her not to know.

P.P.P.S. if things went according to plan I should still be alive, albeit trapped inside my tomb. Severus may know the counter potion to the one I drank with Harry; I trust you will do what you can about the situation.

Luna looked up and gave Hermione a considering look.

"Not much surprises me, but Lucius Malfoy isn't a death eater?"

"I know," Hermione replied. "It fazed me too. I had to read it three times before it sunk in. But if you think about it, it helps makes sense of his behaviour that night in the Department of Mysteries."

"I suppose so… but what about the whole Diary incident. Perhaps there was more to that than met the eye as well."

"What do you mean?" It was Hermione's turn to look confused.

"Well, if he's not really working for Voldemort and at that time he wasn't even back yet, what reason would Lucius have had for giving Ginny the diary… unless someone told him to, maybe as a test of some sort, for Harry." Luna said looking thoughtful.

"You mean you think Dumbledore might have…"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean, after all he did say he had keep things from the Order, Harry and Professor McGonagall."

Hermione's face was white with barely suppressed anger. She seemed to be staring at a piece of carpet that might spontaneously combust from the heat of her gaze.

"If he did… well, there's nothing we can do to change it now and he must have had a good reason for it." Luna said trying to clam her friend.

Hermione looked at her then nodded.

"Ok, then lets get started. I'll explain about my identity, and then we'll look in the Pensieve together and try and figure out a way to contact Severus. Then we just have to convince Professor McGonagall to give Narcissa Malfoy a chance and work out what potion it was that Harry made Dumbledore drink that night and how on earth it could have protected him from the killing curse."

"Nothing protects anyone from the killing curse. It stops the heart instantly and expels the soul from the body. The only way it might have worked is if the professor's heart had stopped beating before the killing curse hit." Luna said staring off into space, a considering look on her face.

"Well…" Hermione began, she was getting used to Luna's sudden insights. "I guess we better get on with this."

July 2nd.

Minerva McGonagall sat at the desk, scowling at Albus' still sleeping portrait. It had been ten days since his death and still he had not woken. Realizing she was day dreaming again she tried to focus on more important matters. The first order of business after the funeral had been to try and re organize the Order. Unfortunately apart from having no leader and no spy, curse his black heart, they had found themselves unable to find the head quarters. Everyone clearly remembered spending part of the summer before there, but were unable to remember its location. This brought around many heated discussions. The Fidelius charm would have lifted on Albus' death; he must have found a new secret keeper before he died, but so far that person had not come forward. Problem number two; that of one Severus Snape, was also at a dead end. The ministry had been looking constantly and had yet to come up with any leads. Without any inside information they felt blind, a new spy was needed, but it could take years to cultivate one. Time they certainly did not have.

Minerva stood, exasperated and frustrated; every line of her body shook with exhaustion and anger. She began to pace, her mind trying to find some sort of reasonable explanation for all that had occurred since her husband's death.

Tap tap tap.

An owl had landed at the window and was urgently demanding entrance.

The parchment was cream and had elegant silver and green trim on it.

Professor McGonagall,

First I must extend my deepest sympathy for your recent loss. My uncle was a kind and noble man who has sacrificed his life for his cause. I must now move more swiftly on, the night of his death he left in my possession something he wished me to pass on to you in person. As such I now request an interview with you at your convenience.

Sincerely,

Narcissa Malfoy.

Stunned was inadequate to describe the look on Minerva's face as her nerveless fingers dropped the letter to her desk as though it had somehow bitten her.

The nerve of the woman, she thought shaking with wrathful fury. How dare she approach me after what she has done! Unbreakable Vows, her son and husband in the service of Voldemort, and she has the gall to contact me to offer her condolences she raged bitterly. Letting out a scream half of anger half despair, she collapsed on the floor of her office and passed out.

Narcissa checked the mirror once more, being certain that the she looked her best. It would not do to show her former enemies any weakness. She was after all walking into the proverbial Lions den. Plastering a smile of confidence on her face that she really didn't feel, she took a pinch of floo powder from the mantle and cast it into the fire.

"Hogwarts" she called as she stepped into the flames.

Brushing off her skirt and robes as she landed on the other side, she took a moment before looking up, not entirely sure she really did want to face them all.

When she raised her eyes, Minerva's stony gaze met her own. Unflinching, she returned the older woman's gaze, stare for stare. Buck up Cissa, she told herself firmly, they need you now.

"Headmistress McGonagall." She said in greeting, her voice dripping with ice.

"Mrs. Malfoy." Minerva's voice was equally frosty. "Please, take a seat."

Narcissa sat down, glad to be off her feet before the other woman saw her shaking legs.

"As I said in my letter, I am most dreadfully sorry for your loss. Uncle Albus bade me give you this letter. She said as she handed the tight-lipped woman the envelope.

Minerva took it suspiciously and then after a moment opened it.

Dearest Minerva,

Trust Narcissa, she is the new secret keeper for the Order Headquarters. Call Miss Hermione Granger to the office, she has something, which will back up this request.

All my love,

Albus.

"Phineus!" Minerva snapped, "fetch Miss Granger at once."

"A pleasure my dear, you're most welcome." The portrait threw to her acidly as it left the frame.

Hermione arrived in the office some ten minutes later, carrying an old oak box. She placed it on the Headmistress's desk and then offered Narcissa a small smile of reassurance. Caught off guard, Narcissa smiled back, relieved that someone had offered her some measure of comfort.

"Well Miss Granger, what exactly did my late husband believe you could contribute to this meeting?" She asked coldly.

Hurt and a little confused at her tone, Hermione took a moment to respond. Schooling her features into an indifferent façade, she spoke. "First of all Professor, may I ask that you make sure we cannot be over heard."

Minerva nodded and cast her wand, erecting wards to stop eavesdroppers and banishing the paintings from their frames. She seemed to sag as she did this and sat down wearily.

"First of all, I really am sorry that that the Headmaster didn't inform you of any of this. There are certain things I can't speak of but I want to try and help you as much as I can. What I can share with you both first is something I think the Headmaster might already have told you about me Mrs. Malfoy. I am actually pure blood my parents were Dorcas and Gideon Prewitt. They married, but because of the war kept it and me a secret. Someone working for the order, found me and placed me with muggles to keep me safe, because of a prophecy I grew up believing I was just an ordinary girl."

"A prophecy? But I don't remember anything about a prophecy! This is ridiculous; do you have evidence of this?" Minerva asked still disbelieving.

"Yes, I do." Hermione replied coldly. She knew her head of house was still upset by the death of her husband and was probably angry that he had seemed to trust Hermione more with this information but she should not have spoken to Hermione as she just did. From the box, Hermione removed one of the memory vials and placed it on the desk in front of the older woman. She had taken all of the memories of Severus from it and it now only contained the prophecy. Minerva reached for the vial and poured the contents into a Pensieve. Leaning over it she disappeared from view.

Narcissa watched without comment and nodded as Hermione seated herself next to her.

"Mrs. Malfoy how is Draco?" She asked hesitantly.

Narcissa smiled wanly at the girl.

"He's shaken and upset. I have told him of Lucius' deception. I think he feels betrayed by his father; it's hard, especially as we don't even know if he is safe. But please, call me Narcissa. I knew your mother quite well when we were at school, we were friends of a sort. She was in Ravenclaw, did you know?"

"I thank you, no I didn't Narcissa. If it wouldn't be too much to ask, could you tell me more about her some time?"

"Of course, In fact I have some pictures from when we were at school; I'll make copies for you."

"Thank you." Hermione said gratefully to the other woman.

Minerva emerged from the Pensieve, pale and drawn. She sat shakily in her chair.

"Hermione, how much has he hidden?"

"Many things Professor, but I can't…"

"No, no, I understand. You can protect your mind, and won't give anything away. I am not so fortunate; I was never born with the talent. I take it he thought it safe to reveal your heritage now?"

"Yes, but not the prophecy."

"Do you know the man of the prophecy my dear?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, I do, but all I can say is that he is in great danger right now, and that he chose to follow the light, so there is no need to worry. As for Narcissa, you have to trust her. The Headmaster has made her the secret keeper. She and Draco will both be there. Lucius Malfoy is not who you think he is. It turns out that he has been deep undercover for years; even his wife didn't know his true allegiance. I have another vial of memories for you to see, so that you know it is true. But as yet we should keep this quiet. They are all already in enough danger as it is without waving a red flag over them."

"Yes Hermione, you are quiet right. I apologize for the way I behaved earlier it was inappropriate. It's just that the last few days… well they have been so very difficult. Severus' betrayal especially, I know Albus looked on him as a son." Minerva's voice seemed to crack under the strain of voicing her feelings out loud.

Hermione bit her lip, longing to reassure the other woman that there might still be hope that Severus had not betrayed them. A sidelong glance at Narcissa showed the same. The blond woman's fists were clenched tightly in her lap, the knuckles white as she dug her nails into her palms.

"Well, I must call the order soon, so that you may pass on the location of our safe house." Minerva rose from her seat and crossed to the elegant woman.

"We may never get on well Narcissa, and it would be a lie if I told you that I liked you, for I do not. But if Albus trusted you, I will extend that same hand. Welcome to the lions den." Minerva McGonagall held out her hand in truce to the queen of pure blood society.

Narcissa rose from her seat and looked Minerva in the eye.

"No, we shall never see eye to eye, but in this instance we must be civil and cooperate for the sakes of both our husbands." She took the older witches hand in hers and shook it firmly.

To Hermione it looked as though it were a battle between them for a moment, each sizing the other up and finding what they saw wanting. Hermione wondered if there was even a slim chance of making this all through to the end. The Dark Lord was organized; he was in almost complete control of his followers. Their side was a mess. The ministry and the order couldn't co-operate, the Order was fighting amongst it's self, Harry trusted no one and everyone thought their best spy had betrayed them. In short they were fucked, she thought scowling at another hapless patch of carpet. There had to be some way to pull them into some sort of line and it meant really delving into her Slytherin side. While thinking of this she spotted the sorting hat, looking lost and forgotten and the sorting stool in the corner. She was vaguely aware the professor and Narcissa were now talking quietly with one another and decided that now was as good a time as any to ask that question that had lurked in her mind since she had found out her true heritage.

Lifting the hat from its place she sat on the low stool, marvelling at how much she had grown since last her backside had graced the seat. Planting the hat firmly on her head she waited.

"What… what's this, oh a mind for me to see, hello young woman, you have been sorted before. What would bring you here again… ah a question, out with it then."

"I was wondering about before, if I had known I was pure blood would it have made a difference to the house I was sorted into?"

"Ah, having doubts about your abilities?"

"No, no it's not that, I just was curious. Am I really a Gryffindor?"

"Honesty you want, then honesty you get, bold like yonder lion roars, it's true this is a strength, but tempered by a stronger voice of cunning from your heart. In Slytherin's house his first ideals you'd fit. A cunning mind and wit, but Salazar's own bravery I see in you today, to do what's right, even when it's hard was this mans true legacy. So if back then you might have sit if you'd only known the truth, than there is where you would belong, Slytherin was the better fit." It said to her.

"Thank you hat, it only proves my point, just being in Slytherin does not mean evil."

The hat chuckled. "Of course not, Salazar Slytherin was a man of strong convictions. He did what he believed was right, even giving up the love of his life to do it."

"What do you mean?"

"Slytherin left those years ago, because of the argument it is true. Godric insisted on sending acceptance letters to muggle borns. Salazar loved his house; it was one of nobility and logic, of honour and wit and cunning mind. When the dark ages rolled in the burning began. Children were handed over or denounced by families as soon as their acceptance letters where delivered. Too young to protect themselves hundred perished. They never knew the charms or spells to protect themselves from fire, didn't know gillyweed could save them if they where drowned. Salazar was so angry with Godric for refusing to close the school, so he left intent on protecting them himself. We never knew what became of him, but it's safe to say he probably worked himself to death trying to save each child he found in danger. Godric in his own anger, at himself most of all, refused to talk about it other than to tell those who asked that Salazar had left because he didn't want to let the muggle born into the school. People assumed he thought their blood was unworthy.

In Hermione's mind the cogs were turning and whirling away. There had to be some way she could use this to their advantage. It was time to put a little of the Slytherin cunning she possessed to good use.

Molly sat in her kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of rest and quiet. For some reason the hands on the clock no longer pointed to mortal peril. Arthur's pointed firmly at work, Percy's too. Bill's pointed to visiting, Charlie's to travelling and Ron and Ginny's both pointed to school. The flutter of wings drew her attention to an owl, which had just flown through the kitchen window. Taking the letter from him, she frowned. It was in Dumbledore's handwriting. Breaking the seal, she slowly began to read.

Dear Molly,

I'm not sure how to start this letter, it seems that finally letting people know the truth after you have kept them in the dark for so long doesn't usually go very well. In a way it's probably better I'm dead as you read this, that way you won't have to kill me yourself. I have a number of things to confess to you my dear, things which you will hate me for.

Firstly I will address the truth I became acquainted with some six years ago. A trusted spy informed me that your brother Gideon had married Dorcas Meadows. I understand why they chose to keep it a secret, the war was at it's height, any attention of the joining of the two families, families which were pure-blood yet worked against Voldemort, would have brought a death sentence down on them. However, married they were, for about a year, when their daughter was born. The same night, your brother died, leaving his family for good. Seven weeks later, Dorcas also died as you may remember, at the hands of Voldemort himself. My spy discovered the child hidden in an upstairs bedroom and spirited her from the house, finding her a home among muggles to ensure her safety. There was a prophecy which said she would be the key to the dark lords downfall, in this action he prevented anyone ever knowing about the prophecy or the child, I do not doubt that his actions saved her life that night, I assure you that he made the right decision. I was not informed of her existence until she started Hogwarts at the same time your own son Ron started. You will be wondering if you know the girl by now and you do. Your niece is Hermione. I am sorry that I have kept it from you for so long, when Hermione discovered who she was two years ago; she agreed to stay silent until it was safe to tell you. But it seems danger already follows her, she in as much danger as her friends, anyone finding out her true heritage now will not change or make the danger any greater. I do though ask that you burn this letter when you have read it, better that the prophecy is still concealed.

Molly put the letter down, her hand calmly letting it rest on the table. She had a niece, her brother's daughter, and he's know for six years! How she wished she could rage at him for withholding it for so long. Oh if he were here now she had a few choice words she would like to say, but that was not to be. Instead she turned her thoughts to Hermione, who already felt like a daughter to her, Hermione… the girl Ron thinks he's in love with. Oh no, how am I going to tell Ron? Her baby boy would be shocked, but it was for the best, Hermione from what she had seen of the girl was too independent and ambitious for him anyway. Besides Ron would soon see that he only loved her as a sister, as she was sure Hermione loved him as a brother.

Molly felt suddenly happy, despite the problems, which the news could bring, here once more she had part of her family back. Her two brothers whom she had worshiped, when she was little, both so strong and happy and brave, they had cared and looked after her when their parents had died when she was ten. When the news had come that they were gone she had been devastated. She had been pregnant with Ron and for a while it had looked as though she might loose the baby from grief. She started to cry then and she wasn't sure why, perhaps it was grief for her lost family of anger at her old professor, but most probably she thought it was because she was happy. Taking up the letter again she continued to read.

Now to my second confession, it was not really Lucius who put the diary in Ginny's basket, he did so under protest, I ordered him to do it. I had to know if Harry could face Tom when the time came, training him early was my priority. Ginny was the perfect victim, his best friends little sister; he would feel an obligation to protect her. Harry was familiar with her and had come to care deeply for your family; I saw this as something, which might motivate him to win. I knew it was dangerous but in my desperation to ensure the good of the many, I let them out weigh the need of the one. I hope that some day you might find it in your heart to forgive me.

Apologetically,

Albus Dumbledore.

"The manipulative old bastard!" She whispered in anger, "I swear that if you were here right now, you'd wish you were dead by the time I was done with you."

August 2nd.

The Prime Minister's office was bathed in the soft light of his green shaded desk lamp. A faint blush of light was visible on the horizon. He had been up for the last three days. Just when he had thought it was safe to rest again, he had been urgently awakened after only two hours of sleep. Hunched over his desk, trying in vain to do paper work, he rubbed his eyes tiredly, wishing he were anywhere else, or better yet anyone else. In the last year, there had been more and more attacks on the muggle population of Britain by Voldemort than he had truly thought possible. Freak storms had taken the roofs off of all the houses in Manchester. Three ferries had been lost at sea, and he meant lost, disappeared, no sign of them at all! The seemingly random murders of entire families were being reported almost daily. The people were baying for his blood. Yet the worst, the one he was trying in vain to find a solution for had happened only hours before.

His requests to speak with the Minister of Magic had fallen on deaf ears, or on deaf paintings he had thought. Shacklebolt had been unwilling to tell him anything and had become grimmer since the end of June. How could they ignore a situation like this though? It was a bloody Nuclear power station that had just blown up! The Haysham disaster was going to be more terrifying than Chernobyl. Already they were evacuating over twenty thousand people in the surrounding area, but even that might not be far enough. There were reports of more than sixty dead and many more injured, scores suffering from radiation poisoning and burns. Neil thought that he had been more than patient with these people. It was appalling that they could leave him without the support he needed right now. Just then the small frog like man in the portrait returned.

"Well? What news? Will they see me?" He asked, cursing himself for sounding so desperate.

The little man at least had the courtesy to look embarrassed before replying, "I regret to inform you that at the moment the Minister for Magic is unable to see you, he is currently very busy." He said apologetically.

"Do they even know what has happened? Do they understand the magnitude of the fall out? Do they even know what a bloody Nuclear Power station is?" he almost screamed in anger.

"They know there's been an explosion, as for the rest, well it's hard to say. The Minister, if I may speak off the record, isn't very well versed in muggle culture or such things as nuclear fishing."

"Fusion." He corrected absently as he ran his fingers through his now ever thinning hair.

"You realize this is going beyond the ridiculous now don't you? Thousands of people have been turned out of their homes, people are dead, and more are dying. We need help!" He said addressing the little man. The painting shrugged sending the poor muggle a sympathetic glance then mumbled something about checking again at the ministry.

Slumping his shoulders in defeat, he thought of the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of his honourable friend the leader of the opposition. He chuckled mirthlessly for a few moments as he imagined the look on that mans face when he actually got the office and the small painting it came with. Yes, the election was just a few weeks away now. His opponent would get in and he only wished he could be here when he realized there was nothing he could do to change what was happening in his country. A loud crack sounded in his office, causing him to jump to his feet.

"What? Who are you? What do you want?" He asked as fear swept over him in cold waves. The man before him wore long black robes, which seemed to suck light into them; the hood of his cloak, allowing no one to see his identity, covered his face.

Silently the man placed small box on the floor in front of him. With a wave of his wand it grew in size until it had become about five feet long by three wide and three tall.

The Prime Minister looked curiously at the box and raised his brow in question.

"These are vials of potions which should protect all those who have had to be evacuated, and enough left over to inoculate all those in a one hundred mile radius of the site. I warn you now though, if any of your scientists attempt tamper with them they will not work, I am sure you can give some lie, a gift from your American friends perhaps?" His voice was raw and quiet, cold as ice and hard as steel.

Nodding his head dutifully the Prime Minister opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again quickly. A humourless chuckle rose from the depth of the hood.

"One question, then I must go." He said indulgently.

"Please thank the Ministry for me and can they help us any other way, with the fall out?" He asked steeling himself.

"Don't thank the ministry; thank the Order of the Phoenix. Ask Shacklebolt about them, perhaps they will be able assist you." With these parting words he left the same way he came in.

Prime Minister Neil Wilson, his brow creased in confusion pressed a small buzzer on his desk and waited.

Severus made it back to Spinners End exhausted, but thankful to be free of the rat. Wormtail had been taken off of his duties to be put to other use. Yes, he thought to himself, now that I can't possibly be disloyal the little spy in my midst disappears.

Dark purple bruises surrounded his sunken eyes, the black depth of them no longer sparkling with life, but rather with pain and a longing for an end to it all. It had been two months and still there had been no contact from the Order. He had information from tonight's meeting, but how could he get it to them? The Order, would never accept an anonymous tip, it would make them wary. He had felt starved of companionship these last months, unsure of how to precede with this mission. True he now stood at Voldemort's right hand and was becoming privy to more and more information, but there had been very little he could do on his own. Tonight's little excursion was a case in point. The most help he could provide were the healing potions that protected and cured radiation sickness. If they had help from wizards they might be able to stop the fall out from the explosion, divert the poison that rose into the atmosphere, shield spells, wind spells, great Merlin even a few good Evenesco's and its would be gone in no time, but it would take a large team of witches and wizards to accomplish that, it was too much for him alone to do. Irritated he wondered if the Prime Minister would actually ask about the Order, he thought it might be probable, after all the Minister of Magic was doing nothing, any help would be better than none.

He flipped the switch on in the kitchen and opened the door then he stopped in his tracks, completely unable to move. The figure sitting at his small kitchen table smiled slowly at him and lowered their cloak hood.

"Hello Severus…"

TBC…

Please review, it only takes a few minutes!

Press the Blue button>