A/N: From this point in the story on there will be some non-explicit sexual content. I've got it outlined and I think it's going to be about 28-30 chaps so we're getting closer :) Thanks for reading!


Snape waited until a few days had passed before going to see Corlett; it wouldn't do to look eager. He wasn't really. But he would need more of her potion soon, the bottle was half-empty.

He Disillusioned himself before he'd even left the castle; Alecto had just finished her stay in the hospital wing and he wasn't taking any chances. He did it so well he could barely see himself moving, but just the same, he was uneasy as he walked the streets of Hogsmeade, as though the houses were watching him.

He muttered her name into the bollan cross, barely moving his lips, and within a few minutes the door creaked open.

"Severus? Where-"

"Inside," he murmured. Corlett stepped back to let him in and as she closed the door behind them he lifted the charm off himself.

This was the first time they'd stood face-to-face since the incident. Corlett lowered her eyes, unusual for her, and brushed back a strand of hair, though she'd cut it so short this didn't really accomplish anything.

He got straight to the point. He didn't know what else to do.

"I need some more of your potion."

Corlett's expression was hard to read, but she didn't seem surprised."Yeah. Sure. Come on upstairs."

He wished he had the backbone to insist she bring it to him, but no, he followed her upstairs like the spineless tool he was. She went straight to her workspace and handed him the bottle, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"You've been using a lot of this."

Snape tucked the bottle into his pocket without saying anything.

Corlett searched his face, her expression serious, concerned. "Are things bad there? At the school?"

Snape shrugged. "About what you'd expect."

Her eyes clouded over, with visions of torture and beatings and cowering students no doubt, and he knew she'd understood.

"But you've been helping them. The students, I mean."

Just like her, to run headfirst into his boundary walls. He ran his finger along the bottle and didn't answer, but the silence was as good as an admission. He braced himself for her touch, shored up all his remaining defenses, weak as they'd become. She reached out for him, just as he thought she would, but pulled back at the last second.

"Listen," she said, raising her hand up to her head and lowering it again as though she didn't know what to do with it. "I know you're going through a really hard time right now-"

Snape opened his mouth to make the biting retort that this insipid remark deserved, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Seriously Severus, just don't. Anyway"-she raised her voice raised slightly to head off any further retorts-"I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you and that you're always welcome here. I mean it." She looked him straight in the eye to make sure this sunk in, and he was overcome by something he couldn't put words to, even if part of him didn't trust what she'd said.

"And it's not-this doesn't have to turn into anything. Maybe it's best if we don't complicate things."

She'd put their boundaries back in place, and he appreciated it, so why did he want to step closer?

"Anyway," she went on, talking fast, filling the silence. "I was about to make some tea, d'you want any?"

He wasn't sure why he turned her down. Maybe just to prove to himself he could. "I should be going. I have a rather heavy workload today."

"Of course." Corlett wasn't smiling, but her expression was hard to read; he couldn't tell whether she was relieved or disappointed. Whether he was relieved or disappointed. What did he expect-that she'd be hurt? That she'd try harder?

He'd just reached the door when four light raps sounded from the other side.

"Oh shit, it's Remus," hissed Corlett. "Disillusion yourself."

"A brilliant suggestion, Corlett, I wonder how I didn't think of it," muttered Snape, pointing his wand to his head and flattening himself against a box near her work table.

Corlett rolled her eyes and opened the door for Lupin.

He swept into the room in a torrent of nervous energy, sharp and electric, his hair sticking up and his traveling cloak on backwards. His face was lined and pale, like he hadn't slept. Whatever was going on, he was clearly miserable about it, and good for him. He could see what it felt like, for once.

"What's wrong?" said Corlett, putting a hand to his arm, just her fingertips, like he was a bomb that might go off any second.

"I can't do it."

"Sorry?"

"It's-" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Dora has been going a bit stir-crazy since we've gone into hiding. There hasn't been much for us to do, to be honest. So we've been fixing things around the house and getting the nursery ready and-"

Snape didn't have a clue what he was on about. He was raving.

But Corlett must have, because she raised her eyebrows. "The reality is sinking in?"

"Well, yes."

Corlett's mouth was strained, like she was trying not to smile. How very tactful of her, Snape would've laughed in his face and shown him to the door.

"Tea?" she said, gesturing towards the kettle. Snape shook his head and mouthed the word, "no," before realising that she couldn't see him and his efforts were pointless.

"Go on then," said the werewolf.

Snape could've sworn Corlett smirked at him as she charmed the kettle to boil and poured a cup for Lupin. She took her time adding the milk and stirring it in.

"How is Tonks doing with all this?" she said, handing the cup to Lupin and pouring one for herself.

"Good, aside from being a bit cooped up."

"So she's not worried."

That wry, knowing smile. Snape knew it would make an appearance at some point. "I know what you're saying," said Lupin. "She's not worried, so I shouldn't be either."

Corlett smiled back. They had an easy way with each other, he thought. "Hey, you said it, not me."

"Well, no offense to either of you, but you have no idea what it's like. It's like...I'm not even sure how to describe it. It's like you become your worst fear. And you have no control over it."

Snape made a disbelieving noise and Corlett shot him a warning look.

"But that's what the Wolfsbane is for, isn't it?"

"Yes, but..." Lupin set his cup down and wrung his hands together. "What if I run out and can't get more? What if I forget, what if they stop making it..."

"I think you're-what's the word? Catastrophizing? I don't think any of those things are all that likely."

"I know, I know..."

Corlett lowered her voice the way she did whenever she asked delicate question. "You've never attacked anyone have you?"

Snape balled up his hands.

"No. Never."

That lying son of a bitch-alright, fine, so he hadn't actually attacked him, but he would have if Potter hadn't saved their sorry arses. Snape let out a derisive huff. Lupin's eyes darted towards the work table, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"It's my cauldron," said Corlett, with a glance back at Snape. "It does that a lot. I think it's time to lower the heat."

She adjusted the fire underneath her cauldron, or pretended to, and mouthed something to Snape that looked very much like "keep it down." Snape scowled, but she was right, loathe as he was to admit it. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if Lupin found out he was there.

"Sorry about that," she said as she sat back down.

"No worries," said Lupin. He glanced down and rubbed the side of his face. "Thing is, there were times that I almost-times that I could have. I've never stopped thinking about that."

"But you didn't. And I know you'd never put anyone in danger like that again. I know you."

Lupin said nothing to this.

"You're not-I mean, you're going back to her..."

Still Lupin said nothing; he seemed to think his silence was some kind of acquittal, some way of avoiding blame, but Snape found it damning.

"I think you'd better," said Corlett, and her delicate inflection gave way to warning, annoyance even. "I mean, maybe she's different but if it were me and someone left again, I'm not sure I'd take them back."

Snape felt a jolt of something he couldn't explain. He brushed it aside, or tried to.

Lupin sank down in the chair and took a long miserable sip of tea. Just like him, so bloody dramatic all the time, moping about in his shabby clothes like a puppy begging for table scraps. Snape stifled an impatient noise as Corlett sat down beside him. Bloody perfect, so they'd be here for hours and he'd have to stand there like an idiot and listen.

"Maybe she'd be better off..."

Corlett set her cup down and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Even she couldn't stifle her impatience. "You know better than that, Remus."

Lupin's expression darkened, annoyed at being chided like this, probably. Snape hoped she'd keep going.

"Look," said Corlett, and her voice lost its edge. "Lots of people go through this. It's a huge life change. But you'd be making a huge mistake if you left, and you know it."

Lupin took a long sip of tea and tapped his fingers against the cup. "But just say..."

"Forget the what-ifs."

Lupin made a frustrated noise. "But think of what's at stake here-"

"Exactly. Think of what you'd be missing out on. Is that really what you want?"

She glanced back at Snape as she said this, and there was something in her eyes, something almost accusatory, or maybe he imagined it.

Lupin finished his tea and ran a hand through his hair for the tenth time since he'd come in, as though the answer to all his problems was lying hidden in his dandruff. "I don't know."

Corlett closed her eyes a moment and Snape could practically hear her counting to ten. "Well, why don't you go back home and think about it some more? Or if you have to I suppose you could crash here a night or two."

Snape made a low hissing noise but Corlett shot him another warning look. He wasn't jealous or any such thing-it was clear that they were simply friends-but he didn't relish the idea of having to step over Lupin when he came to see her. Not that he was planning to make a habit of it or anything.

Lupin gazed into space in front of him and fiddled with his cup. "Dora decided on Hufflepuff colours for the nursey," he said. "I suppose I ought to go and stick a lion in there somewhere."

Corlett smiled. "You never know. The child might just become a Slytherin and surpass you both."

Lupin set his cup down and crossed one leg over the other. The hell? The issue was resolved. His tea was finished, why wasn't he leaving?

"I wouldn't be terribly surprised, if Dora's mother has her say."

"No way, you mean Tonks' mother was a Serpent?"

"She was."

Corlett clicked her tongue in mock sympathy. "You poor man. A Slytherin mother-in-law."

Lupin let out a huff of air. "I think the word we're looking for here is 'formidable." Corlett smiled and raised an eyebrow, and Lupin played at a fold in his robes. "She's not bad, really. We're trying, anyway."

Their eyes met in some kind of shared understanding. "Sounds like things are going well for you then."

"Don't throw it away, in other words."

"Hey, you said it, not me."

He set his cup down and stared into space. "I'm not going to have a clue what I'm doing. I've never changed a nappy in my life. I'll probably give up and just tape old copies of the Prophet to their bum."

Corlett laughed. "You'd be putting it to good use. Being shit on is about all it's good for." She put a hand to his arm. "Seriously though, you'll do just fine. I know you will."

Remus smiled and stood up. "I appreciate the tea and sympathy."

"Sure. Any time."

Lupin adjusted his traveling cloak and Corlett's face lit up like she'd remembered something. "What's going on with the war by the way, have you heard anything?"

Snape tensed.

"Not much," said Lupin. "We think Potter and his friends are still on their mission, and rumour has it that Vol-You-Know-Who is still abroad. We still have people in the Ministry, but with the Death Eaters in control they haven't been able to do much. Your friends are still rescuing Muggle-borns. I was on a mission with them recently, they're doing alright."

"Tell them I send my love," she said, and Lupin nodded and started for the door. Snape had seconds. He crept up behind Corlett and pointed his wand to her head just as she turned in his direction.

"Confundo." Her eyes went slack and he stared into them, frowning in concentration. He would have to give the instructions non-verbally, a trick at the very edges of his ability. "You must tell Lupin that the Death Eaters are closing in on Lee Jordan. He is to find another place to hide. You think this information comes from your old Slytherin friend. Finite."

"Wait!" said Corlett, as Lupin grabbed the door handle. He stopped to look at her.

"Tell Lee Jordan that the Death Eaters are closing in on him. He needs to find another place to hide."

Lupin fixed her with a look that was half-quizzical, half suspicious. "How do you know this?"

Corlett didn't miss a beat. "My old Slytherin friend."

"Ah," said Lupin, and now his expression was shrewd, knowing. Clearly he thought she had some sort of inside scoop on the Death Eaters. Which, of course, she did. "I'll let him know then."

"Great." Corlett stood there awkwardly, her hands at her sides, as Lupin gave her a faint smile and left the room, closing the door behind him. Snape waited until his footsteps faded before lifting the charm off himself.

Corlett rounded on him. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

"You know what. You were muttering something, and I could've sworn I heard you coming up behind me, and Remus was looking at me like I'd said something mental."

Snape hadn't realised he'd said anything out loud. So he hadn't mastered non-verbal Confundus after all, he'd have to work on that. He fixed up his face in confused innocence but this didn't fool her for a second. He couldn't get anything past her.

"Was that-what do you call it-that charm that makes you all confused-"

"The Confundus Charm," supplied Snape, without really meaning to. Dammit.

"So you're the old Slytherin friend, are you? Why didn't you just tell me?" Her expression changed so suddenly, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, that he knew she'd just hit upon some sudden, startling revelation.

"Oh my God. Are you a double agen-"

He reacted too quickly, gripping the back of the chair so hard his knuckles were white. Whether Corlett noticed or not he couldn't say. She was staring at him as though he'd turned transparent and started glowing.

"You are aren't you?"

Snape let go of the chair, kept his expression neutral. "Use your head, Corlett. If I were a double agent do you really think I'd need to hide from the Order? Don't you think they'd know? Could I not have just shown myself to Lupin and passed on the information directly?"

Corlett bit her lip. "Well, maybe some of them don't know." Far too close. But she sounded uncertain.

"You are not to mention me to anyone, do you understand? Not one word."

He could only hope she understood how serious this was. This wasn't just keeping his cover, though that was critical enough. One mention of him and they'd tell her what he was, what he'd done to Dumbledore, and he'd lose whatever he had left with her.

"I won't say anything."

"Do I have your word?"

"I-yeah. Of course."

"Good."

They stood there a moment, Corlett looking at him too closely the way she always did, like she was trying to figure him out.

"Was Lee Jordan one of your students?"

Snape glanced over at her workspace. "What's that in your cauldron?"

"That? Aberforth's been selling it to the Death Eaters. It's a male-enhancement potion laced with mild poison. Just enough to make them sick a few days." She looked him straight in the eye as she said this, refusing to hide it from him. Refusing to doubt.

"You didn't answer my question," she said.

Snape stepped towards the cauldron and peered at the swirling liquid inside, a bright, laughing, come-hither red. There was something irresistibly cheeky about it.

Corlett gestured towards the tea kettle. "There's enough water left for another cup, if you'd like to stay."

Snape scanned the jars and bottles along the shelves, trying not to remember what had happened the last time he'd sat at this table. He'd stay with her too long if he took that cup, and hate himself for it.

"I have a lot of work to be getting on with."

"I understand." Corlett's tone was even, without heat, and Snape wished she'd get angry with him, or plead with him to stay, it would have made things so much easier. How dare she respect him like this?

He made his way to the door and Corlett stood beside him and squeezed his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He couldn't bring himself to look at her too long. But he kept his hand in hers a moment before letting go.

The old man was watching him as he undid the fastening on his traveling cloak and draped it over his desk chair.

"Just how long is Potter's mission supposed to take?" he said, leaning against the desk and staring up at the lined face, as grave and careworn as it had been in life. Snape still found it hard to look him in the eye.

"I cannot say," said Dumbledore. "A few more months, perhaps. Or longer."

"How long could it possibly take to find and destroy a Horcrux?"

Dumbledore blanched at the word, the way some people flinched when they heard the Dark Lord's name.

"It is not such an easy thing, you know. A Horcrux cannot be destroyed through ordinary means."

"You told them how to do it, did you not?"

Dumbledore considered this a moment. "They will know."

Snape stifled an impatient noise. Just like him, to give the boy only the vaguest instructions and expect him to know what to do. Thank Merlin he had Granger with him, though he wouldn't be surprised if his instructions were too vague even for her.

He stared out the window awhile, tracing the edge of the desk. "I was forced to give Bellatrix the poison," he said after a long silence. "She confided in me that she is planning an attack on her sister, her niece, and Lupin. Possibly their entire village. And I doubt they'll be the last."

"I see," said Dumbledore, in that slow quiet way of his, thinking as he spoke. "Does anyone else know about this?"

"Not that I know of. Likely Bellatrix is keeping her cards close to the vest. Not even the Dark Lord knows."

"But if someone were to thwart the attack, you would be suspected of having a hand in it?"

Snape was well aware of this, but he knew why the old man was saying it. He stood up straighter and narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you getting at, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore took off his spectacles and rubbed his face, something he hadn't done since they hatched their plan to use Emmeline Vance as bait and get her to safety at the last minute-a plan that had failed spectacularly. Snape still saw her face in his sleep.

"You cannot risk losing your cover, Severus-"

"They were among your most loyal supporters-"

"Imagine what would happen to the students, if not for you-"

"Do you have any idea what that poison does? It's extraordinarily painful-and they're about to have a child, for fuck's sake-"

"Everything depends on you, Severus.."

Snape seized his desk chair and threw it to the ground.

"Severus-"

Snape seized his hair. "Damn you! Damn you and your-why would you put all this on me? And you won't tell me a fucking thing-"

"I'm sorry, Severus-"

Snape wheeled round and glared at him. "Don't lie to me! You knew-you knew all along-and you've used us, all of us-"

"That was not my intent-"

"SHUT UP!"

And for once, the old man listened.

Snape slept off his fury with the help of a potent draught, and when he woke up the moon had set and the room was silent but for the snoring of the portraits in their frames and the whirring of the silver instruments and the tap of a beak against his desk.

Snape did a double take. A great grey owl was perched on his desk, nibbling at an open bag of crisps. Beside it was a tiny envelope with no writing, no address. He slit it open with a fingernail.

Inside was an even tinier bit of parchment, with no writing, only a black-and-white illustration that had been cut from a book. The constellation Andromeda.

This could've been from Bellatrix, it could've been a trap. He had nothing to go on, nothing more than a few covert glances and a hunch. But his hunches were usually good.

He rummaged around in his desk drawer for an envelope and a spare quill and in the lower left corner of the drawing, in tiny letters, he inscribed a word in ancient Greek.

Σωτηρία

Soteria, the goddess of safety. Underneath this he wrote his initials, in French. LPdSM. Le Prince de sang-mêlè. Bellatrix might guess who it was, if she were to get a hold of it. But he'd see to it she didn't.

He tucked the illustration into a tiny envelope and pinched a stick of wax between his fingers, tucking back a loose strand of hair so it wouldn't get singed as he held it over one the candles on his desk. When the wax turned liquid he took it off the heat and sealed the envelope shut, tapping his wand to the wax and murmuring a long incantation that would allow it to be opened only by the recipient. That done, he gave the letter to his hawk owl Apollo, his trusted companion of seventeen years.

"Give this to Narcissa, and see to it that she's alone," he whispered, stroking the top of his head. Apollo nipped his finger and soared out the open window.

Dumbledore had underestimated him, as he always did. Snape had an ace up his sleeve.

He had a long-lie in the next morning, but he wished he hadn't. Mornings were when his mind would wander to places he didn't want it to go. This time Graihagh was underneath him, her bare chest against his, moaning in pleasure and begging him to go harder.

He flung the duvet off himself and sat up, rubbing his face as though it could erase what he'd seen. He emptied his mind but his body fought against him, his arousal too strong for his intellect.

He shuffled to the loo, his bare feet slapping against the tile floor, hoping the cool air would help, but it didn't, much. The bath then.

He made the water cold, and it took the edge off, but not enough to stop his thoughts. He'd had these kinds of fantasies off and on since he was a teenager, but they never involved anyone he cared about. Fucking was for faceless strangers, something cold, biological, impersonal. A stale-smelling mattress in the upstairs room of a tavern, with a woman he was too self-conscious to look at. The men's room in a Cokeworth nightclub, his face pressed into the concrete wall, with a stranger who left him bruised. Rosier and Avery rolling dice to see who got first dibs. Bellatrix carving a notch into her skin after every conquest.

He couldn't do that to Graihagh.

He kept his thoughts on faceless strangers, gripping himself tight, his movements rough, punishing, but the pain wasn't enough to stop it feeling good. He was so sick...so twisted...

When his breathing slowed and his head cleared he refilled the water and scrubbed himself raw, rinsing his skin with cold water, almost grateful for the two-foot stack of paperwork on his desk. Maybe those thousands of scribbled words could displace some of the nonsense in his head.

The moment he was done he went into the Pensieve again. This time he went to the riverbank, where his ten-year-old self was sitting with Lily, talking about magic. He sat far enough away that he couldn't hear their words, only their voices.

Graihagh had stayed up too late drinking, and when she woke at noon to eat the lunch Aberforth sent up she winced and shaded her eyes with her hand even though the lamp wasn't all that bright.

She read the previous day's Prophet every morning-scanned it, really, it was absolute garbage-so she knew what the calendar date was, but it didn't mean much to her. March was an abstraction when she couldn't see the birds flying north, or the first green shoots on the ground. There were none of those usual rituals that marked the passage of time, no reason to count down the days. She'd turn twenty-eight at the end of the month, but it'd be an ordinary day, like all the others.

What she looked forward to most, she realised, even more than the occasional visit with Remus and Aberforth, or the owl she got from Milo at the end of February-very much worth the telling-off from Ab about the dangers of it being intercepted-were those visits from Severus. He'd bring her more ingredients or ask for more potions and they'd chat for a bit, potioneering, mostly, nothing personal. She'd lent him another book, and he'd given her one of his, on rare and deadly plants. He never stayed long, but this didn't fool her for a second; once he'd come for a refill of potion two days after she'd given him the bottle. Sometimes he'd show up for no reason at all.

He thought he was being subtle, but she knew, she'd known for weeks, really. That wasn't some friendly goodnight kiss they'd shared. That was a desperate, grasping, I-want-to-tell-you-how-I-feel-but-don't-have-the words kind of kiss, and there was no pretending it hadn't happened.

And yet. And yet. There was something in him that wouldn't let him stay, and she wasn't about to hold him down. Maybe it was for the best. None of her other relationships had worked out, and a lot of it had been her own doing. She was like Severus, closing herself off from everyone-emotionally, anyway, she liked sex well enough. Strange that Severus should be the one she wanted to open up to.

She'd been dreaming about him. Dreams that made her ache. She'd lie in bed at night and imagine his smooth chest against hers, his long hair in her fists, those long-fingered hands slipping between her legs.

Sleeping together would be such a comfort, for Severus as much as for her, but she knew it was a long shot, they'd never actually get that far. Or say that they did, that he broke down one night and stayed with her, he'd just be upset in the morning. Better to keep those thoughts to herself.

More than anything she wanted to help him, get him through whatever miserable tasks had been set for him, maybe even help him defect, get him to safety-if he wasn't a double agent, and she still wasn't convinced he'd been honest about that. She didn't know whether or not she wanted him to be. On the one hand, it meant he wasn't an actual Death Eater. On the other, there were dangers involved the likes of which she couldn't imagine, and she wanted better than that for him.

She worried over Severus nearly as much as she did her own family, and Cate.

She needed a distraction, and when she finished her lunch and fed her giant millipede-a little treat for herself she'd ordered on a whim, because she missed living things-she got to work on some more potions, though there wasn't much for her to make. The Order were in hiding, mostly, so it was just Wolfsbane and calming draughts and some potions for Aberforth to sell at the bar. She was earning steady money now, if not a lot, and had some stashed away to pay Severus when the war was over.

Her bottles of antidote were lined up on the shelf, waiting to be used. Severus hadn't asked her about them, and she wasn't sure whether she was relieved or unnerved. Maybe a bit of both.

She was steaming a batch of aconite when the bollan cross lit up. She hurried downstairs and waited for Severus to lift the Disillusionment Charm off himself, in what had long become a familiar routine. She didn't even have to ask him upstairs, she just went and he followed her.

"What can I get you?" she said, with a hint of a smile. Sometimes she caught him off guard with this question, because he didn't need anything.

"I thought perhaps you might have some spare amethyst powder."

Graihagh suppressed a grin, mouth trembling under the strain. Like he didn't have a big jar of it in his private stores. "I suppose you can never have enough," she said, running her finger along the jars on her shelves until she found it.

"So what's going on with the poison?" she said as Severus tucked the jar into his pocket.

Severus went still a moment, staring at the wall, trying to decide how much to tell her, she supposed.

"I no longer have it."

Graihagh didn't want to believe it. "But then-"

"It's exactly what you think."

Graihagh crossed her arms over her chest and walked to her work table and back, her arms and legs tingling. "What are they going to do with it?"

"I don't know."

He might've been telling her the truth, but she doubted it, and anyway, she needed answers.

"Does this affect anyone I know?"

Severus just stood there like a statue, refusing to tell her anything.

Graihagh closed her eyes and made a frustrated noise. "Look, I won't tell anyone. I promise. But I need to know."

Still nothing.

"Severus!"

Severus' wax-figure face softened, became human. He played with the sleeve of his robes. "They're going after Lupin and Nymphadora."

"What? When?"

Severus gestured towards the chair and the upturned crate and Graihagh sat down with him, but she found it hard to stay still.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "Very few people are in on the plan. If I were to thwart the attack they'd likely suspect me."

Graihagh could hardly believe what she was hearing. Severus never confided in her like this. She forced herself to stay calm, to be the kind of person he'd come to with a problem. "So what are you going to do?"

"I have reason to think they're constructing some sort of explosive device that will cause the poison to become airborne. Our only hope is to find it beforehand, but even still, it'll be difficult to do without arousing suspicion."

"Do you know where it is?"

"No. If they were to tell me the location, it would put me in an awkward position, should it be stolen."

"Then how-?"

"I have an inside source. Someone a bit more trustworthy."

Graihagh sat and mulled this over. He was risking so much to save them, she could see what a tight spot he was in. And the last thing she wanted was for him to be caught.

"What if you had some help?"

Severus scrabbled at a fold in his robes. "What do you mean?"

"I just thought-maybe I could get some of the Order, or my friends to steal it..."

She expected him to shut this down, but he looked pensive, almost thoughtful. "I don't know." He gave her a sharp, searching look. "You don't intend to join them, do you?"

Graihagh didn't know what to say to this. She never put herself in danger if she could help it, but it didn't seem right, asking Milo and Fynn or the Order to do it for her, and someone would need an antidote on hand, to neutralise the poison.

"I don't know-"

Severus reached out as though to seize her arm, but stopped himself. "Listen to me," he said, looking her straight in the eye. "You are not to go putting yourself in danger, do you understand me?"

"Since when do you get to tell me what to do?" she said, but she couldn't help smiling a bit.

"What are you smirking about, Corlett?"

"You like me more than you care to admit."

Severus pulled back and his face had that irritated look he always wore whenever he let something slip. "I was merely thinking about how hopeless you are dueling."

"Sure you were."

They fell into a rather heavy silence. Graihagh studied his face. He looked so tired.

"How are you, really?"

Severus gave her a sideways glance. "I don't-I'm just..."

Graihagh reached out to him but he tensed before she'd even touched him. She knew it was hopeless, knew he'd throw her arm off and scowl, insist he didn't need her pity.

She glanced around the room, looking for something, anything, that might cheer him up. That might cheer her up, get her mind off the war.

She closed her hand over his. "If you close your eyes I'll show you something," she whispered.

"What is this about, Corlett?" said Severus, but he stood up with her and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Keep them closed," she said as she led him to the wall near her bed where she kept her terranium.

"Stand still," she said. She scooped up the millipede and placed it in his hands.

"What the-is that some sort of mutant caterpillar?"

"It's a giant millipede."

Severus opened his eyes. "What on earth possessed you to get a millipede?"

Graihagh shrugged, smiling as the creature climbed up his arm. "It gets lonely in here, you know. Its name is Keith."

"Keith?"

"You know, Keith Flint of the Prodigy...?" Severus looked utterly bewildered. "Never mind."

She stroked the millipede's back. "You're really very sweet, aren't you," she murmured as he made his way up Severus' shoulder, getting tangled in his hair. "Oh look, he likes you."

"He's a thousand-footed nightmare."

"He heard that."

"Ugly thing."

Graihagh watched as the millipede gave up trying to crawl through his hair and made his way back down his shoulder. "You can't fool me, Severus, I know you're already in love with it."

He scooped it up in his hands and stroked its back with a long finger, his face relaxed, almost smiling, the lines along his face gone, except the ones at the corners of his eyes-so he must have smiled and laughed sometimes-and in that moment, she knew she was seeing something she rarely got to see. She was seeing the person he really was.

She stood right behind him, her face close to his, watching him. He raised his head to look at her.

The space between knowing and not knowing was only a second or two. Her mouth opened slightly, like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't, but Severus lowered his eyes and leaned in, his breath hot on her face. She reached up to stroke his dry stubbly skin as she pressed her lips to his, slowly, gently, not rushing him.

Severus pulled away. "This can't go anywhere," he murmured.

Graihagh rested her forehead against his. "It doesn't need to."

Severus kissed the edge of her mouth, finding her lips, and she kissed him back, running her hand through his hair. There was heat in this, urgency, but she sensed he was holding back, and she wouldn't rush him, wouldn't push. She pulled away before he could, but kept close to him, waiting to see if he would come to her.

Severus opened his mouth to say something but before the words were out he started like he'd been poked in the back.

"I'd completely forgotten about this thing," he said, craning his neck to watch the millipede crawling up his sleeve.

Graihagh snorted. "I can't believe he was there the whole time. Come on, you." She scooped him up and lowered him back in his terranium.

She was sure Severus would be halfway to the door by the time she turned around, but he stayed where he was. Graihagh slipped a hand around his waist, her face close to his,

"Stay with me awhile?"

Severus stared back at her and she could see the thoughts swirling around in his eyes, fear, longing, uncertainty. She knew he was thinking of the bed just behind them, because she was thinking about it to.

"I should get back to the castle."

"Sure," said Graihagh, her face hot in spite of herself, annoyed with herself for being so forward when she'd told herself she wouldn't rush him. She wasn't desperate or anything, but it must have seemed that way to him. She walked him to the door as though they'd just had a leisurely chat.

"I'm glad you stopped by. Feel free to pop in any time."

There. That sounded cool and unconcerned.

Severus' expression was hard to read but she had the feeling he'd seen right through her. "Perhaps. If there's time."

Graihagh dropped her act and squeeze his hand. "Take care of yourself."

He squeezed back and left the room.