Narcissa pushed her way past the bulky form of Goyle and knelt down beside Severus's unconscious form. She pushed her fingers to his throat and was relived to find a pulse, albeit rather erratic. His skin felt warm and clammy, no doubt the fever had returned. He must have risen and in his disorientated condition and stumbled. She could see no other reason for him to be incapacitated as he was. She gently rolled him from his side and onto his back, revealing the nasty gash just above his eye and the subsequent mask of blood covering the left side of his face. Aha. She looked at his hands and noticed for the first time the fine green powder dusting the fingertips of his right hand, and the torn hem of the silken robe where it met his wrist. She glanced aside, to see Goyle looming over her and looking at Severus with a puzzled expression.

"Knocked 'imself out, huh?" he grunted, beginning to push past her. She raised a hand to his chest and moved to block his view. She gave him a sweet smile.

"He has fallen in his fevered state, nothing more. Foolish man, he should not have been out of bed. Be a dear, Goyle, and fetch Lucius for me," she rubbed his arm affectionately and he nodded dumbly. Goyle was as dense as he was wide, and thankfully showed no sign of noticing anything amiss. When he had lumbered his bulky form from the room, she turned back to Severus and gave him a thoughtful look, before whispering an rennervate.

Slowly his eyelids started to flutter before gradually opening to reveal a pair of dilated irises. A confused look crossed his face and he tried to struggle to a sitting position, one hand going to his head as a low groan escaped him.

Narcissa gently pushed him back down, "Hush Severus, you've taken quite a knock. I want to wait until Lucius is here to assist me, I can't risk you falling again," she busied herself charming a handkerchief and began delicately dabbing the wound above his eye. He flinched as the cool cloth touched the split skin but did not say anything. As she moved to press it down again he clamped a hand around her wrist and held it tight. His eyes searched hers out,

"Narcissa, I cannot remain here, you know it as well as I," he whispered.

Her eyes softened as she sank back onto her heels, nodding mutely and biting her lip gently.

"You tried to use the floo?" she asked, indicating the dusting of powder on his hands and then the torn edge of his sleeve, "seems like it took a bite out of you." She gave him a pointed look.

He nodded slightly, flinching as the movement caused a sudden pounding through his head. Sighing, she vanished the powder and repaired the sleeve in two quick flicks of her wand and then turned to him once more.

"How could you do something so stupid?" she chided, "What if I hadn't heard the bell and beat Goyle to it? He's no genius but I think even he would have noticed you being covered in floo powder and come to the same conclusion as me!"

"Unlikely," he grumbled, "Goyle is an idiot."

She smirked. "Indeed. Nevertheless, you take liberties with my safety – with Draco's." Her tone sharpened as she narrowed her eyes at him, "I cannot place you above the safety of my child, no matter how I feel for you! Do not do something as fool hardy as this again, I will not cover up for you next time."

Severus winced as her sharp tone reverberated around his head. Gods he could use a pain relief potion. Being on the sharp end of Narcissa's tongue was never a good place to be. He had to admit he had given no thought as to the repercussions for her that his actions could cause, and he mentally chided himself. She had always been good to him.

"I did not mean to place you in harm's way," he whispered, "I merely intended to send a message Narcissa, that is all."

She froze. "What sort of message, and to whom?" her face had blanched.

"I have no recollection of getting here but I am quite sure that Hermione would not have willingly handed me over." he replied quietly.

Narcissa snorted, her face twisting into an ugly grimace, "Your dirty little mudblood is it? Merlin Severus! You could have the pick of the most eligible witches available yet you choose to align yourself with someone wholly unworthy of you!"

He visibly flinched, and when his eyes met hers again they were cold and hard.

"You would do well to remember to whom you speak, Narcissa. I am not a man to be provoked. You will not speak of her in that way in my presence again, do you understand?"

For a long moment she searched his eyes before nodding silently. She bit her lip to prevent him from seeing the tremble in it and busied herself cleaning up his face.

"Do you never think what might have been?" she asked as she smoothed the cloth over his cheek, gently wiping the blood away, "between us?" She paused and looked at him intently, willing him to answer.

He reached a hand to her face and gently cupped a soft cheek. The black pools of his eyes were softer now, compassionate.

"There was a time, when it was all I could think about," his voice was rough. Narcissa closed her eyes as his cool fingers caressed her cheek, evoking memories of a different time. She blushed as the her skin reacted instantly to his touch, aflame with sensation, the memories flooding about her in a rush. A dark winter's night many years ago, an illicit meeting in the depths of the woods that bordered the manor, a coming together of bodies – the delicious taste of him, the strength in his arms as he braced her against a tree, the heat of him as he drove her beyond the sense of reason. It has been furious, intense and so utterly passionate that the mere thought of it now made her knees weak. She'd never since been loved, worshipped, as thoroughly as she had been that night. Her husband did not even come close to possessing the inclination, let alone skill, to pleasure her the way Severus had. Afterwards they had lain intertwined amongst the snow, his cloak wrapped around them as the snowflakes melted on their hot skin. It had only taken one more searing kiss from her lover to send them tumbling back against each other. Slower this time, with tender caresses, and a reverent touch – he treated her like a goddess as he stroked and plundered and teased her into ecstasy. That night was emblazoned in her memory. They had made love until the early hours, and she had felt utterly bereft when he had reluctantly left, with a final kiss, knowing it would be the last. She was promised to Lucius, and there could be no repeat of what they had shared, no matter how hard she willed it. Nobody knew of the night they had shared. It had been a promise they had made to each other, at his insistence, for her safety. He did not care or fear for his own.

It was the soft velvet of his voice that brought her back from her memories and she reopened her eyes to find him regarding her with a pain expression.

"Cissy, do not torture yourself with what could have been. There was no way it could have worked. You were promised to Lucius, a pure blood with a wealthy family behind him. I had nothing to offer you. What we shared that night was incredible," he gave her a soft smile, "but that time has passed for us." He gave her cheek a soft squeeze before dropping his arm back to his chest. His eyes had become glassy with pain and the pounding in his head had become so intense that he was struggling to focus. As he looked at her face it blurred into two, and he squeezed his eyes shut with another groan. He felt nauseous.

"Severus?" she sounded panicked, "Severus can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can –"

Her voice sounded distant. He tried to obey her command but his eyelids felt leaden and he was too weary to resist. A familiar floating sensation was creeping over him, his body and limbs feeling thick and heavy, like he was weighted down. His head felt full of cotton wool as he tried to focus on her voice but the effort was too much and he let the darkness take him under again.

After he went limp in her arms she spent a moment gazing at his relaxed features, mesmerized by him as she had been all those years earlier, before gently easing his head back to the floor. A lock of hair had fallen across his face and she tenderly brushed it away, her hand lingering to trace the shape of his lips and jaw.

"Cissy?"

Believing herself caught, she jumped in fright, guiltily snatching her hand away and turning to face her husband. He tutted as he strode past her and Severus to the mirror and was too busy adjusting his hair to notice his wife's compromising position.

"Is he alright?" he asked as he moved onto straightening his cravat.

"Knocked himself clean out. He is proving to be somewhat of a difficult patient," she offered by way of explanation.

"It would appear so, but then this is Severus – when has he ever been easy to handle?" he drawled in response, not moving his eyes from his reflection, "However, I do believe we should keep a close eye on our old friend from now on. The man is terribly unwell, and whilst I care for him greatly, if he were to die before the Dark Lord has finished with him it will be us who takes the punishment, Draco too." He faced her finally, noticing for the first time the concerned expression on her face.

"We have to help him, Lucius –" she whimpered.

"Oh, do snap out of it Cissy, now is not the time to get sentimental! Severus would not thank us for losing our heads just when he needs us most! He knows the risks just as we do, he would expect us to take care of ourselves, of Draco!" He crossed the room and took up both of her hands in his, "Of course we must help him, but we must also protect our family. We need to be prepared for what may come." He looked down at Severus's motionless form, mouth set in a firm line, "whatever it may be."

There was an expectant silence as Dumbledore poured over the runic message. His brow furrowed in concentration, his half-moon spectacles balanced at the end of his nose. He smoothed his beard thoughtfully as he read the message for a third time.

Harry and Remus had materialised from the Infirmary floo just moments earlier, stumbling over each other in their eagerness to deliver the news. In the end it had been Harry who had recovered himself enough to explain the mysterious message and hand over the scrap of fabric.

"Hmm." Dumbledore murmured again, continuing to smooth his beard.

"For Merlin's sake, spit it out!" Minerva hissed in frustration. She had taken to pacing the floor, her concussion all but forgotten in the wake of Harry's announcement. She came to a stop, arms placed on her hips.

Dumbledore raised his eyes from the cloth. "It is from Severus. There is very little here, he mustn't have had much time with which to spell this, I can feel his magical signature, but it is weak, unstable. I fear his condition is continuing to worsen." His mouth was drawn in a tight line.

"Where is he?" Hermione pressed. Her face was tight with concern, brow furrowed.

The Headmaster pointed out a blue sigil amongst the purple and green runes, "This one here means "peacock," and this one here is Severus's own signature in runic form, the one you recognised, Remus. The rest is merely a means of concealing the true message, interference if you will. Apart from this one –" he turned the fabric over and indicated a silvery orange rune. "This one signals danger."

"So, Snape is in danger?" Harry surmised as he leaned over the Headmaster's shoulder to look at the runes again. Dumbledore nodded.

"I know Severus well," he said softly, ignoring Minerva's indignant snort, "the danger does not refer to him, it refers to any form of rescue. He is warning us against coming for him."

There was an uneasy silence before Harry found his voice.

"So we just leave him wherever he is and just hope for the best?" he spluttered incredulously, "No, Professor we can't do that! He needs to be here, where Poppy can care for him!"

"Harry, Severus knows the dangers of his position, he –"

"ENOUGH!" Minerva's patience had finally expired. She advanced quickly and menacingly on Dumbledore, snatching the swatch of fabric from his hand and bringing it to her heart. Tears shone in her eyes as she glared at him.

"The Malfoys have him, they have a ridiculous amount of peacocks, everyone knows that! Lucius Malfoy is the biggest one of them all! Severus is at Malfoy Manor, that much is clear to me. You have repeatedly let him suffer for your cause, now you propose to leave him to die in that nest of vipers?" her voice shook, "I will not leave him again. Danger or not, we are going to get him and bring him back home, with or without you." She whirled away from him, indicating with a swift flick of her head for the others to follow her before she headed out of the infirmary.

After the others had departed, Remus lingered for a moment, quietly observing Dumbledore's bowed head. He laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Join us, please." He pleaded softly. For a moment the older wizard didn't move, then he slowly raised his head to look into Remus's eyes. His eyes were full of sorrow and regret and when he spoke his voice was a mere whisper.

"Minerva's right, Remus. I have failed Severus more times that I care to admit, but Gods I love him. I love that man as I would my own son, but I don't know how to put any of this right. I have used him, at a time when he was at his lowest ebb I took advantage of him, demanded too much of him – yet he gave it willingly, anything to make amends, to try and make it right by –"

"Lily," Remus breathed.

Dumbledore nodded. "Lily. Despite what he did, he is a good man. As soon as he realised his mistake he defected from the Death Eaters and came to me at great personal risk, begging for their lives –"

"The Potters," Remus added.

Dumbledore nodded again, "He begged me to save them all and in return he would give anything." Dumbledore rose to his feet, and looked straight into Remus's eyes, "So I took everything," his voice shook, pained and anguished, "except I failed on my end of the bargain. The Potter's were killed. Yet I did not release Severus from his oath. Instead, I allowed him to shoulder the blame, to live with the guilt."

Remus dropped into a chair, shock registering on his face.

"You needed him broken," he gasped.

"I needed him to hate," Dumbledore corrected.

Remus stared at him silently, horror etched across his features. He rose shakily to his feet. All this time, Severus had been suffering with such a heavy burden for all these long years and had been made to pain for it in pain and suffering ever since. He turned hard eyes on the man he had previously respected above all others.

"So he would do your bidding? So he could strive for redemption? You have made that man suffer more than any man should ever suffer! You could have released him from his vow but instead you chose to take full advantage of his broken heart. How could you?" He turned to leave, "You know I used to think I was the one who was a monster, something to be feared, but it turns out that you are a bigger monster than I ever was – Minerva was right, you are a manipulative, merciless old bastard." He gave him a look of contempt before striding from the room without a look backwards.

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