CHAPTER 14
Out of the Frying Pan
Snape arrived at the Great Hall as everyone was gathering for dinner. He looked around eagerly but saw that he had arrived before Professor Lovejoy. He passed a few minutes making small talk with an astonished Madam Hooch; the students were mostly seated by now, but there was no sign of Professor Lovejoy. Dumbledore waved to him, catching his eye. Snape got up and went up the table to him.
"Any word from Trillium this afternoon, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired.
Snape shook his head. "No. When she left, she said she'd see me at dinner." He glanced down the table. "Minerva isn't here yet, either. They went to Hogsmeade together--but surely they should be back by now?" The first faint prickles of disquiet slithered down his spine.
Dumbledore motioned toward the students. "Why don't I get them started on dinner, then you and I will go and see what we can find out?" He gave Snape a reassuring smile and rose, holding his hands up for quiet. The buzz of talk gradually quieted.
"Another day nearly over," he said. "Only one more day until the weekend--and the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff." Applause followed, accompanied by some good-natured whoops. "No doubt you all have homework to complete before bed--so tuck in, everyone!" The serving plates up and down each table filled with food, and appetites sharpened by outdoor activities were soon being busily satisfied.
Dumbledore gestured to Snape, who followed him into the staff lounge. Dumbledore said, "Let us just pop in on Rosmerta and see what she knows." Both men took a pinch of Floo powder from a small jar atop the fireplace mantel. Dumbledore went first.
"The Three Broomsticks!" he cried, and was rapidly obscured by swirling green flames. When they died down, Snape took his turn, finding himself mere moments later stepping out into the taproom of Rosmerta's inn. Dumbledore was at the bar, talking to her urgently.
As Snape joined them he heard her say, "Heavens, no, Albus. They've been gone for well over an hour and a half. Minerva commented on the time and said they'd need to hurry if they were to be back at Hogwarts in time for dinner." She looked worried. "Do you--do you think something's happened to them?"
Dumbledore straightened. "I do not know, Rosmerta. I think Severus and I will walk back to Hogwarts and see if we can find any sign of them." He turned and took Snape's elbow. "Come, Severus, let us make haste." They made their way out into the lingering light of the late-afternoon sun and started down the road to the castle.
As they rounded the bend and the last of the Hogsmeade buildings disappeared from view, it suddenly seemed a great deal darker. The sun was down behind tree-level and the road lay in shadow. Snape and Dumbledore walked briskly; much of the day's warmth had disappeared along with the light.
Suddenly Dumbledore exclaimed in surprise. Someone lay just ahead of them in the middle of the road. Both men broke into a run, Dumbledore's agility taking Snape by surprise.
When they got closer, they saw that the still figure was none other than Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore panted to a halt and said breathlessly, "Looks like--she's been--immobilized." He looked around, but no one else was in sight.
Snape took out his wand and pointed it with shaking hands at Professor McGonagall, snapping, "Finite incantatem!" She shuddered and gasped, then groaned in pain. Relieved that she was at least conscious, Dumbledore bent to help her up with Snape's assistance.
"Albus," she said weakly, clutching his arm. "Albus--they have Trillium." She looked at Snape. "I'm so sorry, Severus--they took us quite by surprise."
"And 'they' are...?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"Death Eaters. Six of them. They all had hoods on so I didn't recognize any of them, but I think that fool Avery was their leader. Oh, Albus," she said, and her voice cracked. "How could I have let this happen? I dread thinking what they might do to her."
Dumbledore patted her hand. "Nonsense, Minerva, you couldn't have known this would happen." He looked at both of them. "We must get back to Hogwarts immediately and, I think, summon the Order. They must be told about this." He regarded Professor McGonagall skeptically. "Do you think you can walk, Minerva? That must have been quite a tumble you took."
Gingerly she took a few steps, grimacing with discomfort. "Nothing broken, thank goodness. I believe I'll live. I may not be able to go very quickly, however. Perhaps you two should go on ahead. It's not far, and I can catch up."
"Absolutely not, Minerva. I won't hear of it. I don't want you out here walking alone in the dark." Dumbledore pulled out his wand and shot a large stream of red sparks into the sky. "There. That should summon help. In the mean time we'll start walking--if you're sure you're up to it?" She nodded distractedly.
Snape rounded up the parcels Professor Lovejoy had dropped, and they began a slow progress toward Hogwarts.
A sudden sound of hoofbeats came from up ahead. A centaur appeared in the dim light, coming from the direction of the school. As he approached, they saw that it was Firenze. He trotted up and bowed to them politely.
"I saw the sparks," he said. "May I be of some assistance?" They told him what had happened, and his brow lowered in anger.
"Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest?" he exclaimed. "That is something I hoped never to see." He regarded Professor McGonagall with grave concern. "Madam, I would normally not suggest this, but I am not so proud as I once was--and you do seem in dire need. I would be honored if you would allow me to carry you back to the castle." Professor McGonagall did look exhausted from her ordeal. After a brief hesitation, she accepted.
"It is I who am honored, Firenze," she assured him. "I am well aware that your people do not lightly grant such privileges to humans." She looked up at him, unsure of how to proceed. "Er--how should I--can you just--er--"
Immediately grasping her dilemma, Firenze sank to his knees and allowed her to clamber awkwardly onto his back and sit "sidesaddle"--albeit, of course, without a saddle. He lunged awkwardly back up and she gasped a little, unsure of where to hold on.
"Never fear, madam, I will not let you fall," he assured her. "We shall go at a walk. I daresay you will hardly notice you are moving." He started down the road, and she found it was true. It was not so different from riding a horse, but there was even less rocking motion, so she felt quite secure not holding onto anything at all. This was fortunate, because she could never have insulted Firenze with any suggestion of reins or a saddle.
Soon they were at the school gates. The sun had disappeared completely behind the western hills, and the road was in deep shadow. As they approached Hagrid's hut they saw him striding down from the castle. He gaped in amazement as the little procession drew nearer and he could see Professor McGonagall riding on Firenze's broad back.
"Good evening, Hagrid," Dumbledore said, as if they had just been out for a leisurely stroll. "There's been some trouble, and Firenze has graciously offered to help." He explained as they continued on to the castle, Hagrid exclaiming in horror as the story was related.
At the castle entrance Firenze halted and Hagrid assisted Professor McGonagall to dismount.
"Thank you, Firenze," she said gratefully as the centaur turned to leave. "I appreciate your help more than I can say." He inclined his shaggy head in acknowledgement and moved off briskly, disappearing into the deepening shadows.
Snape and Dumbledore proceeded to the Headmaster's office, where Dumbledore quickly dispatched owls to the Order members. As the last one flew out of his window into the moonless night, he sighed.
"Alas, Severus, I'm afraid we can no longer wait for Voldemort's summons," he said. "We must decide on some other way to proceed. At once. We mustn't leave Trillium to the Dark Lord's mercies any longer than absolutely necessary." He looked sympathetically at Snape, who still looked rather dazed by all that had occurred.
Dumbledore turned and went over to him, putting his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Severus?" he said gently.
Snape looked at him with eyes full of misery. "It's my fault," he said, his voice barely audible. "I should have known better than to give him anything he could use against me. I had no right to risk her life. None at all. I've been a self-absorbed, self-indulgent fool." He closed his eyes, imagining things too horrible to bear. "What if--if he--"
"Calm yourself, Severus," Dumbledore said bracingly. "Come sit by the fire, that's it. Now, then--let us consider this rationally." He bustled about, fetching a teapot and pouring Snape a large mug of hot tea. Then he took the chair across from him, stretching his legs out so his feet were only inches from the fire. Snape huddled into his robe, staring mesmerized at the flames.
"First of all, Severus--Severus!" Dumbledore waited until he had Snape's attention. "First of all," he repeated sternly, "this is not your fault. Very noble of you to say so and all, but 'tisn't the least bit true. You can blame yourself for Voldemort's actions if you insist, I suppose, but I don't advise it."
Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore forestalled him with a raised hand. "You are going to say that if you hadn't fallen in love with Trillium this wouldn't have happened--yes?" Snape nodded miserably. Dumbledore snorted.
"Pish-posh. Since when are you, of all the people Voldemort holds grudges against, the only one not allowed to love? To have a normal life? Friends and, yes, lovers? Dozens of them, if you've a mind to." Snape looked at him incredulously. "Well--I'm not saying you'd want to, mind. It's just that you seem to have decided you shouldn't have in your life any of the good things that make living worthwhile. You've deprived yourself of a normal life for far too long. I for one am heartily glad you and Trillium are--ahem--involved. I think she's good for you."
"But it doesn't go both ways, does it?" Snape said quietly. "I'm not good for her. In fact," he said, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness, "I'm about the worst thing for her. Just look what it's led to." He pounded the arm of his chair. "She's in mortal danger--she might even be dead. And all because she loves me." He closed his eyes but couldn't shut out the pictures of what could be happening to Trillium even now, while he sat here safely at Dumbledore's fireside. His eyes snapped open.
"I can't wait for the Order," he said desperately. "I need to find her--now."
Dumbledore shook his head. "We don't know where she is yet, my boy. No point haring off on a wild goose chase. We need something to go on. I should think Voldemort's summons should be coming at any time now, don't you? He surely knows that Trillium has been missed by now, and that Minerva will have told us what happened. I think it won't be long before he sends his summons, and then we can act."
Snape rose and paced restlessly before the fire. "It galls me to sit here doing nothing," he said tightly. "When Trillium is suffering Merlin only knows what at his hands. Or at the hands of his Death Eaters," he said, remembering the salacious way in which Lucius Malfoy had looked at her. His jaw clenched and he paced faster.
"Severus! Sit down," coaxed Dumbledore. "You'll wear yourself out and be no good to anyone when we need you. Come and eat something. We missed dinner, if you recall. You must keep up your strength." He subsided as Snape resumed his seat, looking disinterestedly at the plate of food that appeared in front of him with a wave of Dumbledore's wand.
Snape wondered dully where they had taken Trillium. What was she doing right now? Was she all right? He tried not to wonder if she was still alive; if he didn't ask the question, the answer couldn't be "no". He ate mechanically, not tasting a thing.
Dumbledore watched him out of the corner of his eye while eating his own supper. He knew exactly what was going through Snape's mind but could offer him little comfort. In truth, Trillium could be dead by now, although he thought it unlikely. He imagined Voldemort would let her live at least until he had Snape within reach. After that, however...it was anyone's guess. He sighed quietly and tried to be patient while they waited for the Order to gather and Voldemort to summon his Death Eaters. He thought it might be a long night.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dumbledore started awake some time later, not sure what had woken him. The fire was nearly out and his feet were cold, so he put on another log and poked at the coals until the ash was knocked off and they began to glow. He peered about but did not see Snape, so he got up to investigate.
He found Snape on one of the side stairways leading up to Dumbledore's personal observatory, browsing among the bookshelves lining the stairs.
"Nothing yet?" Dumbledore inquired. Snape shook his head. "Some tingling, no more. I was feeling restless, so..." He indicated the books. "I took the liberty of looking at some of your books. I hope you don't mind."
Dumbledore waved his hand at the apology. "My dear fellow," he said mildly, "think nothing of it. You are more than welcome to explore. Even I don't know everything that's here." He smiled. "Not even after more than thirty years' worth of rainy Sunday afternoons."
He left Snape to it and walked to his desk, where he sat going through rolls of parchment and making notations on some of them. Before long he was engrossed in his work.
Snape had just returned The Salem Witch Trials: A Personal Account to the shelf when, with no warning, the mark on his arm began to burn. He gave an involuntary shocked cry and stared down at the mark, which had turned black.
Dumbledore had risen and was looking at him over the tops of his half-moon spectacles, blue eyes alert. "Severus?" he asked.
Snape looked up, an expression of dread on his face. "It's time," he said. "They are summoned to Malfoy Manor." He rubbed his wrist in an attempt to ease the burning pain. He had always wondered, as Voldemort sent forth his many summonses over the years since Snape had left him, whether he deliberately caused Snape to feel more pain than his more loyal servants--he didn't remember it being this painful when he had first entered the Dark Lord's service. He winced. A small way for the Dark Lord to show his displeasure with a traitor, perhaps?
Dumbledore was busy with his charmed Galleon, sending out the signal and information to the Order, members of which were presumably even now on their way to the school in response to his owls earlier in the evening. Finally he looked up.
"There," he said briskly. "That should do it. The message is for everyone to divert to Malfoy Manor. Come--let us collect Minerva and be on our way." They fastened their cloaks on and left Dumbledore's office.
Professor McGonagall was waiting for them in the entrance hall. "What is your plan, Albus?" she asked. She looked very tired, as if she had not rested at all, although she had lain in bed for a few futile hours before rising to pace around her office as she waited for daybreak--or word from Dumbledore, whichever came first.
"We shall walk to the end of the drive," Dumbledore said as they stepped out into the star-studded night. "I wish to apprise Hagrid of the situation; then we'll Apparate from outside the gates." They hurried down the sloping lawn to Hagrid's hut.
Dumbledore climbed the front stairs but the door opened before he could knock. Hagrid's bulk was framed by firelight from the interior.
"Evenin', Dumbledore," he rumbled. "Ready to go, are you?" He closed the door behind him and stumped down the steps to join them.
Snape looked askance at him, then at Dumbledore. "He's not going with us, surely?" he demanded.
Hagrid was usually even-tempered, but he knew when he'd been insulted. He bristled, but Dumbledore raised a hand quellingly. "This is not the time for petty insults," he said evenly. Hagrid looked somewhat mollified, and Snape rolled his eyes in disgust.
Dumbledore continued, "Hagrid's job is to see to Harry's safety whilst we are gone, merely as a precaution." To Hagrid he said, "I do not know how long that may be, you understand. I will send word if there is any opportunity--but you must be prepared for the worst. You know what to do if we should not return. I'm relying on you, Hagrid."
Hagrid nodded slowly. "O' course, Dumbledore, sir. I won't forget. Harry'll be safe with me--you can trust me."
Dumbledore smiled and grasped Hagrid's arm. "I never doubted it," he said warmly. He turned to Snape and Professor McGonagall. "Let us be off."
They turned and walked the short distance to the great iron gates. As they stepped through, Dumbledore turned to look back at Hagrid, raising a hand briefly in farewell. In the next instant he, Professor McGonagall, and Snape had Disapparated, leaving behind them only the empty road and a bemused Hagrid.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Malfoy Manor was located far to the south of Hogwarts in the countryside of Kent. It was isolated, which suited its owners perfectly. As with residences of many other magical folk, various charms had been placed on it to make it appear unappealing and uninteresting to Muggles. The mansion itself was enormous, and to the casual passerby it appeared to be in an advanced state of decrepitude.
The owners (no one could say just who they were) had long been rumored to live in another country (but no one knew where, exactly) and to have no interest whatsoever in selling the Manor or developing the extensive property attached to it. Many an estate agent had eyed said property with an acquisitive eye over the decades of Malfoy ownership, but as no one authorized to deal on the owners' behalf could ever be reached directly, the agents eventually gave up, disappointed but resigned.
Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore Apparated in a small copse of trees behind the manor house. Members of the Order and several Aurors were already there, waiting to put the plan into action.
Kingsley Shacklebolt said quietly, "It seems likely they'll be expecting us. Be careful. At the smallest sign of anyone discovering you, immobilize first and ask questions later. A full body-bind is preferable if at all possible; we hope to transport as many Death Eaters as we can to the Ministry to stand trial."
He lowed his voice still further, so that the others had to strain to hear him. "Our goal for tonight's mission is twofold: one, to delivery Trillium Lovejoy to safety; and two, to disable and remove as many Death Eaters as possible." He looked at them sternly. "What we do not need is any dead heroes. I can not stress the need for caution strongly enough. I believe it very likely that Voldemort himself is here; so the more quickly we can accomplish our goals and leave this place, the better chance we all will have of surviving to fight another day."
Dumbledore said, "You all know what to do. Off with you, now." In twos and threes the group dispersed toward different entrances to the house. Dumbledore looked at Snape.
"Find her, Severus. But do not let your desire for vengeance blind you to danger. It is very important that you not face Voldemort alone, in this time and place with so many of his supporters present. Go in--find Trillium--get out. As soon as you have her safe, take her back to Hogwarts." Snape nodded once, his mind already on the task at hand, and he moved off into the shadows surrounding the house.
Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Kingsley remained hidden in the trees, gauging the silence. There were no outward signs that anything untoward was happening inside the house.
"I feel useless, standing about out here," Kingsley said. "What if they need help? I'm responsible for my Aurors, at the very least." He tapped his wand absently against the palm of his hand, looking longingly toward the house.
Dumbledore said, "I, too, would far rather be in the thick of things than out here, merely, as you say, awaiting the outcome. However, we do have a purpose. No Death Eater will escape from the house while we stand guard."
Professor McGonagall drew her cloak about her more closely and shivered. Dumbledore took her arm solicitously. "Are you quite sure you ought to have come, Minerva? You've had quite a day of it already. After all, none of us is as young as we used to be."
She threw him a wry look. "Speak for yourself, Albus. I always say you're only as old as you feel." She sighed ruefully and admitted, "Unfortunately, I feel about two hundred years old tonight."
Dumbledore chuckled. The three of them took seats on one of the many fallen trees littering the small wood and prepared to stand watch, the last line of defense and a formidable barrier to any Death Eater hoping to escape capture by the forces of the Light.