NEAR GAIRLOCH, HIGHLANDS, SCOTLAND
The next morning

Severus stood at his window, thinking about the progress he had made the night before, if it could be called that, and about the later meeting. He started as the house came alive, foremost with the twins barrelling down the stairs.

"Breakfast! Oi—breakfast! Don't dawdle! Peaky, ehhh, Longbottom?"

Ruckus, shouts, and short bursts of laughter echoed from the hallway outside his door. Severus scowled. He only stayed at the Weasleys' safehouse on the nights before meetings, but he was tempted to give it up. The convenience really wasn't worth it.

Severus took his time changing his clothes despite the fact he was hungry. He hadn't had time the day before to eat after a rushed breakfast and when he'd arrived back in Scotland, he'd been too tired to do anything but climb the stairs and fall asleep on top of his bed in one of the guest rooms. Still, he'd rather go hungry for a bit than eat with that lot. Molly was always kind enough to save him a generous helping and keep the coffee hot.

When Severus did venture downstairs, he found the landing and the dining room mostly empty. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he sat down at the head of the table, allowing Molly to pour him a steaming cup of coffee. Her hand was shaking and she set a heaping plate of black pudding, toast, and scrambled eggs before him. He nodded at her. "Thank you."

Molly adjusted her apron and then sat down in the empty chair next to him. She leaned against the edge of the table, turning her wedding ring around and around on her finger for a few seconds. She opened her mouth, clamped it shut, pursed her lips, then looked out the window.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her. "Molly, will you kindly stop your worrying? You're going to give me indigestion."

Molly snorted, shaking her head, but she couldn't help the wobble in her voice as all of her worries came tumbling out. "This is a mistake. What if—what if when it happens, we're massacred? I couldn't stand," she paused, then whispered, "I've only three left. What if everything goes wrong?"

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of two more people in the dining area. With an inarticulate sound, somewhere between a grunt and a snort, he turned back to his food and began to tuck in.

Ginny sat down next to her mum and reached for her hand. "Mum, it's going to be okay. We've been training like mad. We're strong. Voldy's ranks have no idea—"

Severus spluttered into his coffee. "VOLDY?"

Ginny smiled, her face serene. "Yes, quite the ring to it, don't you think? Makes him seem quite tame, somehow. Not near as frightening."

Of all the ridiculous—! Severus ignored Draco laughing in the doorway with as much resolution as it had taken to teach first year Hufflepuffs. "You—out. All of you. Merlin. Can't a man eat in peace?"

Draco sidled up next to Ginny as she headed out the door. Severus shook his head and glared at Molly until a small smile broke through the worry lines on her face and she stood up.

She sighed. "Quite right, I suppose. I shouldn't worry...I can't seem to help—" She shook slightly, but she squared her shoulders and wiped her eyes with the edge of her apron. Her voice drifted back to Severus as she headed towards the kitchen, "If only Arthur..."

Severus glared down at his eggs and continued eating. Afterwards, he washed off his plate and cutlery, preferring to do it the Muggle way, and dried everything off with a tea towel. As he was pouring himself another cup of coffee, he heard some of the gathering Order members chatting as they stood near the doorway, waiting for everyone else to arrive. With coffee in hand, Severus left the kitchen and returned to the dining table, taking his customary spot at the head of the table. He nodded at Minerva, who was standing by the door, then turned his chair a bit towards a nearby window, focusing more on his thoughts than on the gathering crowd.

A local Order meeting was scheduled to begin shortly. Several Orders at various locations worldwide met every fortnight, with interchanging members depending upon which country a witch or wizard was in at the time. The Board, the organization of all of the top-ranked Order members from around the world, met all together once a month. The Board's meetings were much more formal, and if Severus was honest, suited him more.

On the other side of the room, Minerva stood tall, clutching her hat in her hand, and was asking Colin Creevey how his devices were coming along and how his week had been. Colin was working on extra security systems for safehouses, a magical variation of a security camera, and he was enthusiastic as he explained he had gotten all of the bugs sorted out and had five all packed and ready to go, patting his leather backpack affectionately, and planned to finish several more in the next week.

Neville sat in a corner, silent, his mind far away. He couldn't seem to stop separating himself from the group, even his lifelong friends, since his rescue from The Dark Tower eight months ago. The lanky boy was all tense lines where he was resting in an armchair in a corner of the room. Everyone talked around him, chatting, laughing, but he tuned them out. He couldn't feel anything, and while he knew that that should scare him, he couldn't manage the fear either. He rested his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He did feel tired. That was something, he supposed.

Severus rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. It had been a long night and the meeting promised to be a headache. New to the Order, McLaggen was going to be difficult, and Molly and the twins weren't going to be happy with him either.

The young hothead strolled through the open doorway, with Amelia and Susan Bones right behind. Victor Krum, Tonks, Nikolai Korsakov, Ginevra, Fred, George, Molly, Draco, Neville, Isa Bocelli and Septima Vector brought up the rear and began to gather around the magically-enlarged table.

Severus ignored the small talk as everyone finally took their seats. In the meantime, he waited for the rest of the senior members of the original Order to arrive.

Hagrid ducked under the door frame a minute later, out of breath, and there was a lively din while he was welcomed.

Finally, Aberforth and Kingsley trailed in, took the last two seats, and Severus glared around the table at them all, effectively shutting them up.

No one spoke.

That's more like it, Severus thought.

"I have been continuing my research," Severus began. He was not at all happy about the outcome. "Unfortunately, the potion that Voldemort wants is possible to create. I brewed it successfully last night. I will stall as long as possible, but we need to be prepared for the eventuality that there will come a day when the odds are stacked against us much more than they are now. Vector," Severus withheld a sigh and made eye contact with the dark-haired witch a few feet away, "update us on the matrix."

Severus took his seat and followed the dialogue as he mentally went over the inevitable outcome when the Dark Lord was given the Potion of the Empty Soul. It would make Voldemort's progress with the Inferi look like child's play. The potion acted as a Dementor's Kiss, in a way, smothering the victim's soul, but instead of leaving an empty vessel, the mind would remain. Victims would lose everything that made them who they were, but would be perfect soldiers, willing to follow the Dark Lord in every way. No consciences to slow things down, no regret to turn their loyalty, no fear to hold them back. It made the hairs on the back of Severus's neck stand up just thinking about what could happen.

He had been commissioned with the creation of the potion eighteen months ago and now that he had successfully stabilized the potion's recipe, he could feel the remaining days ticking away. The Dark Lord was already impatient, and the only thing that could aid in a delay would be a distraction.

As if in direct correlation to his thoughts, Septima Vector's summary was not encouraging, to say the least.

"The numbers have been inconsistent lately; that has been an issue for a few months now, but anonymous lines are complicating matters—"

"Anonymous?" Krum asked, his forehead crinkled.

"Sì," Isa Bocelli, Septima Vector's sister, answered. "It's a peculiarity of Arithmancy; occasionally factors will show up in your equations when you don't consciously add them. We're knackered; the two of us have been up all week trying to figure out what or who they are and what the implications could be."

"How many are there?" Molly asked.

Septima met Isa's eyes and then squared her shoulders. "Four."

Isa stood and joined her sister at the front of the room. "We are fairly certain now that each of these lines represents an individual person. And," she paused, meeting Septima's brown eyes in the low light, "we think that one of them is Severus."

Severus's brow furrowed. "I am already represented."

"Ye-e-es," Septima admitted and then paused. "But then, we made a startling discovery this morning. Your equation as it was is gone; and Isa made the connection that one of these new equations is almost identical to yours except for a few alterations, although...the line is now a different colour."

Severus ignored the sharp stare from McGonagall and the many curious looks he was gathering from everyone, and frowned.

Septima pried, "Do you feel any different, Severus?"

He glowered at her and his temper rose when she smiled. "I find I am more irritated at the moment than I had been when I woke up this morning. And that's saying something."

Septima broke out into a grin. Confound that woman! What was with the teasing light in her eyes?

Isa watched him with bright, curious eyes. "Did you know, Severus, that only something truly life-changing could cause the shade of your line to change? Much like when a wizard's Patronus changes, this takes something very...integral to who you are."

Severus froze.

After an interminable silence, Isa continued. "For example, falling in love..." but she stopped short at the black look on Severus's face.

Titters travelled around the table.

Oh, right, hilarious, Severus thought. That's wonderful.

"Wipe that smile off of your face this instant, Vector," Severus hissed. "Idiotic women. Of course you wouldn't consider that it means that I might be forced to drink an altering potion, one created by my own hand?" His hard eyes cut the two Arithmancers to the quick and they straightened, suitably chastened.

"Ah, right," Septima muttered, the playful light gone from her eyes. She and Isa had spent a happy few hours wondering who Severus might be destined for. A bottle of wine had been involved, naturally, but now she saw quite clearly they were reacting to the equation in the entirely wrong direction. "Porca vacca." (Italian: 'Holy cow'; literal translation: 'pig cow')

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." He cleared his throat and, deflated, Vector and Bocelli retook their seats.

His only physical response to the news was a sudden numbness in his hands. He flexed his fingers under the table and forced himself to sit up straight. He had schooled his features for so long there was no visible reaction noticeable on his face, but inside, he felt sick. It must happen soon if it was already affecting the Arithmancy Matrix.

Silence reigned at the table for a time until McGonagall cleared her throat. "It is imperative, Severus, that you only deliver the potion after you've created a successful antidote."

Severus nodded. Of course. He was already working on it.

The meeting was further derailed a moment later when McLaggen spoke up after several back-and-forth whispers with the twins. "Do you mean to tell me that you're going to turn traitor again, give away all of our secrets, and probably turn into He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's greatest weapon? And we're just going to let you sit here?"

McLaggen's outburst did not garner the reaction he expected.

The table grew tense and quiet, and Cormac glared down the table at Snape, who met his gaze squarely, his stare colder than an Arctic gale. Cormac didn't flinch, but many would have. Instead, his temper continued to rise and he almost shook in his chair from rage. The world had gone to hell and the Order was next, that was clear enough. Merlin, why did his timing have to be so absurdly bad?

McGonagall looked down her spectacles at McLaggen, her stern eyes making him sit up straighter than ever in his seat. "The circumstances are less than ideal, but Severus Snape is beyond reproach, even," her eyes grew a bit hard, "from you. Where there is a problem, we will find the solution. We don't toss people out like trash." She paused. "Not even when their mouths work faster than their brains." She spared a look at the Italian sisters, though it was not unkind, just of the reminding sort.

Cormac's hands balled into fists under the table. He barely heard her next words, but tried to focus around the red that was encroaching upon his vision.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to assign our new junior members?"

"Indeed." Severus paused and his gaze upon McLaggen turned reflective and he had to repress a smirk. These meetings were the bane of his existence, but they had their moments. He was going to enjoy this. "Shall we start with our outspoken champion for the cause himself? McLaggen, you will join Victor Krum and Colin Creevey at Safehouse Four. Your duties will include scouting, rescue operations, as well as caring for those refugees under Number Four's roof." Severus ignored the look of contempt that McLaggen was throwing Creevey's way and turned towards the twins. He should have separated them a hundred years ago. "Fred, you are joining Number Four's team as well." The twins started and began to protest, but Severus cut them off. "I expect the four of you to work together fluidly as a team. Krum and Creevey are in charge. They'll guide you through the particulars after the meeting." He turned to the other brother. Both twins were staring at him with identical looks of alarm on their freckled faces. "George, you will be joining Safehouse Three, working alongside Longbottom, McGonagall, and Miss Lovegood. Report to McGonagall in regards to your new duties." Severus withheld a sigh at the glowering looks aimed in his direction. The twins had almost bungled several rescue missions because they wouldn't focus on the task alone when they worked together. Enough was enough. "Ginevra, I expect you to step up and take over the Messrs. Weasleys' duties here at Number Two. Report to me after the meeting and we'll go over specifics." At the youngest Weasley's nod, Severus stood. There was only so much meeting that he could take. "If that is all?"