I live! Try not to die of shock. I've written some new chapters for this story – and actually finished part 2 of 3! It only took me about 200 pages. Omg this thing is huge. I'm working on part 3, which also looks to be big.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews, kudos and favorites! You all got my butt back in gear and writing again.

Very Important! Once again:
I started writing this without having seen the Shippuden episodes of Naruto. I've now seen only the first few, but I'd already written the beginning of this and am not going to go back and change things. There shouldn't be any spoliers from that point. Lots of things are not consistent with Shippuden, however some minor things may find their way in.

Interlude 5

If he had been one of his spoiled students, he might have started whining about how life wasn't fair. It was late, he was tired, he was dirty, and he could think of a hundred other things he would rather be doing starting with a stiff drink and ending with supervising Longbottom's attempt at making a corrosive-class potion. As it was, he was going to lose an entire week's worth of work on a mooncalf-milk based potion all because he would not be there during the two hour grace period that existed between thoroughly dissolved and scalded.

And that was only the beginning of why this night wasn't fair. There was still the very good chance that someone would try to kill him that night.

And just who did he have to thank for this lovely opportunity?

Harry Bloody Potter.

Did the stupid brat actually have to be found? He couldn't do the world a favor and just stay lost wherever it was he had disappeared to? No, he had to drag the rest of them into this mess.

If Potter wasn't dead by the time this night was over, Severus might just have to do the honors himself.

After informing one master of his sudden change in plans for the night, he had had to answer to the call of a second master. Two apparition points, and one hellish portkey later, Severus Snape was on his back, in the dirt, with a knife pressed against his throat and a spinning red eye looming over him as he tried not to get killed by his third master.

"Damned mongrel!" Snape snarled, still trying to push the crushing weight off of his chest with one hand while the other groped hopelessly for his wand. The bastard had hit him from the side like a ton of bricks, appearing out of nowhere in the dark and knocking not only the sense out of him but his wand from his tightly gripped hand. The humiliation of having actually dropped his bloody wand while in the middle of a raid was not something he was going to forget any time soon. And with a little luck, he might be able to share his displeasure.

But given the way luck had been treating him as of late, he was likely to be disappointed again.

"How?" the voice from above him grated out. There was the feeling of something searing pushing against Snape's mental shields, trying to force it's way passed all of his carefully constructed defenses, and he dropped all attempts at getting his wand back in order to focus on the more important battle. Snape's magic shoved back, instinctively trying to force the invading presence out of his mind and succeed in keeping it at bay. This was one conflict that he would not surrender at. He had spent too many years perfecting his defenses, keeping his few precious secrets that were truly his and no one else. No other master had fully forced their way into his mind, and this one would have to kill him first before he let that happen.

The knife at Snape's throat pressed in deeper, drawing a long line of blood that trailed down the side of his neck and soaked into the ground beneath him - but nothing more than that.

If the man had meant to kill him, he would have done so by now. Threatening him at this point was useless, not when he still needed Snape.

"Back off!" Snape hissed through clenched teeth.

His demand was ignored and the question repeated once more. "How?"

"I don't know!"

A hand fisted in his hair and slammed his head back down onto the ground. "How can you not know?"

Snape would have gladly bitten through that hand if given the opportunity. "It's the boy. The Dark Lord has ways of finding him. Ways he does not share with us."

"That is not helpful," the voice replied slowly.

"That is not my problem!"

"I can make it your problem." The bastard almost sounded smug.

Once this was all over, Snape was going to take a great deal of pleasure in hexing him into another dimension.

"Will they come again?"

Snape barked out a dry humorless laugh. "Given the Dark Lord's obsession? Yes, most certainly."

"That doesn't work for me, I'm afraid."

"Then take it up with him!"

"I might."

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Snape to roll over onto his stomach, one hand pressed against his neck to staunch the flow of blood, while the other hand fumbled blindly in the dark for his wand. Once his hand wrapped around smooth wood and humming power, he scrambled back up to his feet. He could hear the sounds of a massive duel drawing to a close.

He knew these sounds. It was time to leave. The Dark Lord would not be pleased. He wouldn't be the only one.

Damn that boy.