Minerva had set to pacing the room again, wringing her hands incessantly as she waited for everyone to settle around her. Every moment that they wasted was a moment Severus couldn't afford to lose and her patience was stretched to its limit. Impatiently she paced back and forth in front of the great ebony desk that served as Severus's workstation in his private potions lab. She had wanted to feel close to him, and here in his beloved sanctuary where he spent the majority of the little free time he had, seemed like the only place she should be. She ran a weathered hand across the smooth expanse of wood and savoured the feel of it under her skin. She closed her eyes and inhaled the smell of the wood, tracing the faintly masculine scent of the many ingredients lining the shelves in their neatly labelled bottles. The smell reminded her of Severus and she felt a twinge in her chest as she felt the loss of him.

As Minerva was reminiscing over the desk, Hermione was recalling her favourite memory of that particular piece of furniture in an altogether different context. She blushed furiously as she recalled in vivid detail the moment Severus had laid her across it and made love to her as they celebrated the success of his lycanthropy cure. He had been elated that night, the closest to happy she had seen him in a long time and he had hadn't been able to keep his hands off her, showering her in butterfly kisses as he slowly divested her of her clothing. He had looked up at her as he paused over her stomach and she recalled how the flickering light of the candles around his desk had reflected like stars in the endless dark of his eyes as he gazed upon her, transfixed. It was a look of awe and adoration and it had tugged at her heart. That was the moment when she realised that she had fallen in love with Severus Snape. She ran a hand over her stomach as she knew he had done that night, before his clever hands had wandered South and made all sense and reason desert her. She blushed again. Shortly afterwards he had begun to breathlessly whisper the ingredients and their respective measures of his wonder potion into her ear as they moved together and she had found the whole thing incredibly erotic. Needless to say, the desk proved itself to be very robust and she hoped Minerva didn't inspect the wood too closely lest she spot the nail marks she had clawed into it that night.

She was startled from her reverie when Lupin bustled into the room, his face flushed with irritation. He pulled out a stool, dragging it roughly across the floor with a screech. He sat heavily and met Minerva's questioning gaze. He shook his head in response. Not now. Hermione walked quickly to the small cabinet to the side of the lab and retrieved a book before coming to sit beside Lupin. Minerva cleared her throat.

"Now we are all here, let us decide how we are going to get Severus –"

"Wait," She was interrupted by Hermione who revealed a worn leather journal clasped in her hands. "We don't need to go to Severus, we need to heal him. If we can heal him sufficiently without being caught, he can maintain his cover and return to us when he is able." She opened the book and placed it on Severus's great desk, flicking through the pages until she reached a heavily annotated page filled with calculations. "Severus has tested positive for lycanthropy – I'm willing to wager that his deterioration is linked to the infection." She was breathless with barely supressed hope. "If we can cure the infection, I think he might be able to recover."

Minerva regarded her sympathetically, "Hermione, there is no known cure for lycanthropy –"

"There is," she interrupted again, "Here." She pointed at the page she had selected, "Severus created a cure."

There was an audible intake of breath as Minerva opened her mouth in shock, "Show me," She whispered and she bent over the journal, eyes scanning the page rapidly. She raised hopeful eyes to the younger witch, "Merlin above, Severus did this?"

Hermione nodded, "Not only that – he tested it and it works, it actually works! See here," she indicated a list of names at the bottom of the second page that expanded as she touched it, "These subjects received a prototype – all two hundred of them recovered completely. Repeat tests for the presence of the lycanthropy virus were universally negative." Her eyes gleamed as she locked eyes with the older witch, "If we can get the potion to Severus –"

"He could be cured too. Poppy? What do you think?" Minerva turned to face her old friend. Poppy looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"I do not doubt Severus's skill as a Potions Master, nor do I doubt his research – but even two hundred positive results on a prototype trial falls woefully short of the number to get a potion approved for general use. We simply don't know how this will affect him, and he is currently in no fit state to be ingesting largely untested potions! If he were to have an adverse reaction it would be nigh on impossible to treat him." She explained, worry etched across her face, "But I don't see what other choice we have. Short of sending him to St Mungo's for further evaluation, I am out of options – between Henry and I we have tried every combination of healing charm, spell and potion we can come up with and still his health is declining rapidly. In addition, now that the ministry knows of his infection he would be detained on sight, the Aurors will be out, actively searching for him. So," she took a deep breath and met Hermione's eyes, "I say we have no choice but to attempt it."

"What say you, Harry? You had an idea of how to help Severus? Are you in a position to elaborate? We need to explore all the options before we commit to one," Minerva asked.

Harry was studying the grain in the wood of the potions counter intently, noting the occasional scorched marks and gouges and studiously avoiding their attempts at eye contact. He cleared his throat.

"There's something I should have told you earlier," he managed, his face flushing red as he finally raised his eyes. He adjusted his glasses and slowly rose to his feet, moving to stand beside Hermione.

"Harry?" she enquired. His expression was concerning her and she took one of his hands in hers. He looked directly into her eyes with a pained, almost guilty expression.

"It's the lycanthropy that is killing him. I know this because I felt it," he absent-mindedly rubbed his scar, "He has come to the same conclusion and believe it or not, he wants to save Severus too. I think he knows how to help him."

"No." Hermione's face was set in grim determination, her eyes hard, "Not again Harry – you promised!" She shuddered as she thought about the last time Voldemort had been able to access Harry's mind.

"If I can access his thoughts – there might be an alternative!" he offered, his tone placating. "It would be the last time Hermione."

Hermione looked fierce. "You are my best friend Harry! If you get into his mind, he sees into yours too! You know this! We cannot risk it! What if you can't occlude your thoughts? Even you will admit you cannot occlude well!" her voice was shaking.

"I can do this Hermione," he pleaded, reaching out to hold both her shoulders. "Let me help him, please?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers. Hermione sighed as she regarded him with a resigned look. She began to chew her bottom lip anxiously.

"You'll do it anyway, no matter what I say, won't you?"

He nodded grimly.

"Like it or not, Voldemort is one of the most powerful wizards of our age. It stands to reason that he may know something about Severus's condition, and potentially a solution." He pulled Hermione to his chest and hugged her tightly.

"I owe it to him to try, Hermione."

She pulled back from his embrace and wordlessly searched his face. "Please be careful Harry, I couldn't bear to lose you too." She whispered. Harry nodded, giving her a warm smile.

"You won't." He turned to Minerva and gave her a nod.

"I'm going in."

He settled himself in Severus's leather chair and closed his eyes, gripping the chair arms firmly. Taking several deep breaths, he silently willed his thundering heart to calm as he focussed on activating the link. For a long moment nothing happened, then suddenly he felt a searing pain flash through his scar and he gripped the armrests fiercely, nails cutting into the soft material. His head began to toss from side to side and sweat began to bead on his forehead.

"No," he mumbled, "No – ancient spell to siphon, the dark mark – magic," he groaned as he twisted uncomfortably in the chair. Poppy hovered behind him, tracking his vital signs as he began to thrash in pain. "NO!" He shouted abruptly, "Get out –"

Hermione looked alarmed as Harry began to tear the leather from the chair, his fingernails drawing great rents across it. A quick glance at Minerva confirmed her mirrored concern and Lupin hurried over, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder to quiet him.

"The mark! It's the mark! It is killing him – must not waste his magic, his skills, if he cannot live – I shall take what I can!" Harry's voice took on a sibilant hiss as his face contorted with agony, his breath coming in short pants. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he started to shake and he let out a piercing scream.

"Stop this!" Hermione shrieked at no-one in particular. She lurched forward and grabbed hold of Harry's hands, jerking him into a tight embrace as he doubled over in convulsions. Blood was beginning to drip from his scar and he suddenly reared up, head connecting with Hermione's and sending her sprawling to the floor. His eyes sprang open and Hermione recoiled in horror as she saw his irises had turned blood red. She scrambled backwards away from him as he advanced on her. When he spoke, his voice was no longer his own - it was high and cold and unmistakeably Voldemort's.

"Harry Potter hassss returned to me! Closer, let me see who plots against me –"

As Harry surged forwards, there was a blast of light from Hermione's left and it collided with Harry's chest with tremendous force, slamming him back into the chair, tipping it and leaving him sprawled motionless on the floor behind.

Minerva whirled around, wand drawn and gasped when she met the anxious face of Dumbledore, who stood just inside the entrance to the potions lab, his wand drawn and still held in Harry's direction. He didn't say anything as he lowered his wand and moved towards the stricken man.

"HARRY!" Lupin cried as he knelt beside him. The younger man twitched, groaning as Lupin slowly raised him to a sitting position. Hesitantly he opened his eyes. The red hue had vanished, his scar slowly returning to its normal colour. Blood had tracked down into his eyes and he blinked it away furiously.

"Harry?" Hermione asked breathlessly as she approached warily.

He looked up at her in desperation.

"We have to hurry – he plans to use some ancient spell to siphon Snape's magic! It's the Dark Mark." He was babbling, eyes wild. His heart was hammering out of control and he felt faint as the blood drained from his face.

"Harry, slow down!" Lupin commanded, hastily drawing a bar of chocolate from his pocket and breaking a square off. He pushed it firmly into Harry's mouth and pinched his nose to force him to chew.

"Relax, chew – take some deep breaths." He directed, all the while embracing him around the shoulders, soothing him. As Harry ate the chocolate, his colour began to return and his breathing slowed, his heart rate calming. He drew in a shaky breath and rubbed the tender skin of his scar.

"It's the dark magic in the mark that is killing him. It is reacting with the infection and causing his body to shut down." He closed his eyes and shuddered as he recalled what he had seen. "Vold – I mean, He has tried to brand a werewolf before, and the dark magic in the mark killed it. He cannot think of a way to save Severus and he intends to take his magic –"

"But that will kill him!" Poppy cried in shock. The few cases of magic siphoning she knew of were from many centuries ago and had resulted in instant death. There was no way for a magical being to recover from having their magic forcibly removed. It was a banned practice for that very reason and had not been attempted since the dark ages.

"How long do we have?" Dumbledore spoke for the first time, coming to stand beside Harry, his face tight. In that moment he looked old, frail.

Harry looked desperate, "Two days. He thinks he can learn the magic in two days." He gasped, intense fatigue suddenly washing over him and making the room spin around him crazily. He collapsed back against Lupin and closed his eyes, breathing heavily.

Poppy swooped down on him and forced his face up with a firm hand under his chin. She regarded him critically before tutting loudly.

"You need to rest, you have overexerted your mind." She turned to face the others, "I will take him to the Infirmary – I take it you have the information you need?"

Minerva and Hermione nodded.

"Very well, come with me young man – time for bed!" She offered him a warm smile and sent him to sleep with a wordless charm. Lupin rose with her as she levitated Harry's limp form and together they left the lab, with Harry floating along behind them.

Silence settled around them as Minerva, Dumbledore and Hermione were momentarily lost in their thoughts. It was the Headmaster who finally spoke.

"That was an extraordinarily stupid thing to do," he sighed as he dropped into Severus's chair and rubbed his forehead wearily, "but it was also incredibly brave. I cannot imagine what it must be like to endure a mind as dark and tortured as Tom's." He sounded resigned.

Minerva regarded him quizzically before speaking in a tight voice.

"I didn't think you cared, Albus. After all – as you repeatedly tell me, Severus knew the risks. Presumably you feel Harry also knows the risks and consequences of his actions?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, "Minerva, please. We are on the same side. We need to work together. When all this is over, then do what you must to be rid of me, but until then we have a common purpose and we need to be united."

"He's right. We need to put our differences aside for now. If we can't get this potion to Severus within the next 48 hours Voldemort is going to kill him and I for one, am not prepared to let that happen." Hermione raised a small bottle containing a murky brown liquid and gave a grim smile, "It's time for a little deception of our own."

XXX

Narcissa hated feeling like this. She felt utterly helpless, useless. Lucius had helped her return Severus to the bed and she had been momentarily stunned by the gentleness with which he handled his old friend's unconscious form, tucking the sheets in carefully around him and giving one hand a small squeeze before he had left with a promise to return when he had had a chance to speak with Narcissa's contact at St Mungo's.

They had been unable to rouse him this time. He had lapsed back into a high fever, his body shaking violently beneath the coverlet despite the constant temperature Narcissa had charmed the fire into maintaining. Sweat beaded on his forehead and on his top lip and his breathing had returned to the rattling gasps she had heard from him upon his arrival at the Manor. Twice now his temperature had spiked at a dangerously high level and had sent him into violent convulsions. He would not be able to withstand much more of this. She held two fingers against the burning skin of his neck and noted the racing pulse, his heart hammering away furiously under her fingertips. Sighing, she pressed a cool, damp cloth to his forehead and dabbed gently, so lost in her care for her patient that she didn't notice her son slip into the room until he was right beside her. She glanced at him, noting his ashen face.

"Draco, you should not be here. He would not want you to see him like this," she murmured, smoothing a hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Draco nodded silently, his eyes fixed on his Godfather.

"Is it true?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"That he is dying? Yes Draco, it is true." She hated hearing herself confirm it, but she could no longer deny it. She knew little restorative magic, but she knew how to cast and interpret a basic diagnostic spell and the results had made bleak reading. She watched her son carefully as he digested the information, his Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard.

"There must be something we can do," he managed, his voice breaking slightly. Not knowing quite what to do he reached for a cool hand and clasped it between his own, warm hands. "He wouldn't give up on us so we mustn't give up on him."

Narcissa smiled sadly as she watched her son squeeze the hand of the man whom she had so wanted to be the father of her child and blinked away the tears that suddenly crowded her vision.

"He shouldn't be here Draco," she lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in close to her son's ear. "We need to find a way to get him back to Hogwarts, before it's too late for him."

Draco nodded silently and took a shuddering breath.

"It is my fault he is here. If I had been more careful, if I hadn't blundered into a Death Eater gathering he wouldn't even be here now." He rubbed his face wearily and turned to face his mother.

"You cannot blame yourself, Draco. Your father was the one to remove him from the castle. He feared the Dark Lord's reprisal should he fail to bring him back – he did what he thought best for his family."

Draco snorted in disbelief. "He did what he thought best for himself! My father is an arrogant, selfish man! I do not believe he did this to protect us, he did it to cover his own back, to curry favour with the Dark Lord. I am no fool, mother!" he snarled.

Narcissa bit her lip and returned her attention to the prone man in the bed.

"Draco, return to Hogwarts and find Dumbledore. Tell him all that you know and tell him," a single tear dropped from one eye as she looked pleadingly at her son, "tell him that the floo to this room will be unguarded for twenty minutes at daybreak. I can do no more."

Her son nodded in silent acknowledgement and gave his mother a gentle kiss on the cheek before striding quickly from the room. She watched him leave, grateful that he should have more of his Godfather's bravery than his father's cowardice. A sudden, pained gasp drew her back to Severus and she choked on a sob as his body began to tremble at the start of another full-blown febrile convulsion. As she tearfully tried to comfort him whilst he jerked uncontrollably, for the first time in her life Narcissa Malfoy prayed.

XXX