Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Time frame: PoA

- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Dungeons

His footsteps echoed quietly in the unusual silence, now that most students were off to the last Hogsmeade visit before the end of term or at least outside, enjoying the heat and sun. His robes whispered softly on cool stone. Down here in the dungeons it was gloomy despite the torches frequently lit along the walls of the windowless corridor. As gloomy as his mood. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore allowed himself a small sigh.

Fate indeed had strange humour. The events of last night had more than proved that point.

A moment Dumbledore's gaze travelled upwards, as if it could penetrate the massive walls of the castle and see the skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy he had just left in an abandoned office. Or even higher, all the way up to North Tower and the strange, round room near the top. The strange, ridiculous woman with her shawls and teacups who had no idea that real talent slumbered behind her overdone mysterious behaviour, stepping forth at the most unexpected of times. Involuntarily he sighed a second time.

If only he had known. If only they had talked to him - then, there, all those years ago - it would have made all the difference. But he had forgotten how young they had been. Of age but still almost children, ready to fight the looming darkness but still innocent in their mind... James, Sirius, they had thought themselves so smart because they HAD been smart but inexperienced, so terribly inexperienced when it came to the luring call of power. And now it was too late to change the past. Maybe even the future.

Stopping in front of a heavy wooden door Dumbledore briefly put his hand against one of the many pockets in his long wizard robes. Nothing innocent was in his blue eyes now. No amused sparkle. Sybill Trelawney wasn't the only teacher he kept at this school for reasons he'd rather explain to no one. Wasn't the only teacher he could not afford to let go. How had poor Gideon put it all these years ago? A tiger by the tail. He raised his hand and knocked.

A deep voice, muffled through the wood, told him to enter. Dumbledore took a breath and opened the door.

Hundreds of glass jars gleaming eerily on long lines of shelves, illuminated by few but well placed candles instantly drew his eye. Their silent inhabitants seemed to drift slightly, imperceptibly in the many coloured liquid surrounding them but any time one took another look they appeared back in their original place only to move again as soon as one turned his back. Invisible eyes seemed to follow the slow progress of any intruder across the shadowy room after he or she had shut the door that closed without a sound; the weight of a not existing, merciless observation rested heavily on anybody who finally stopped in front of what was said to be the most feared desk of the castle. A masterpiece of subtle manipulation that never ceased to amaze him.

Dumbledore's gaze fell for a long minute on the neat stacks of examination papers piled on top of the massive desk as he came to a halt in front of it and he couldn't help feeling pity for the unfortunate students who had had their work corrected this morning. He only hoped neither Harry, Granger nor the Weasley boy were among them, small as the chance might be. Then he finally looked up and met the eyes of the dark-clad man standing on the other side.

"Severus."

"Headmaster."

The silence in the room was something corporeal, heavy, a tension ready to explode at any second with devastating effect. The two men were watching each other warily, faces guarded, each waiting for the other to make the first move, to set the stage for what was to come. Dumbledore could feel the echo of Snape's soft reply vibrate in the stillness of the moment. Black silk slithering over deadly steel. He kept his own voice very calm.

"Remus has just left."

An outsider would have missed it. Would have missed the tiny spark of uneasiness flickering for the briefest moment at the bottom of Snape's black, fathomless eyes. But not Dumbledore. And he wasn't above feeling a grim kind of satisfaction. Severus had gone too far this morning at breakfast in telling the Slytherins about Lupin and he well knew it.

Unfortunately he hadn't been the only one who had gone too far.

Dumbledore slowly reached inside his pocket and pulled out one single, carefully folded sheet of paper.

"I can not say that I was overly surprised we once more lost our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher before the end of year." He still spoke calmly, almost soft. "I was, however, not expecting to find my Potions masters resignation on my desk as well."

Again the silence descended on them, like a suffocating blanket. Snape was looking at the piece of paper in the motionless, aged hand, his face unreadable, without expression. Whatever thoughts were running through his head behind the cold mask of self-control would forever be his secret. Then he finally lifted his eyes.

"If you have come to change my mind you wasted your time. I will not reconsider."

"Is an old schoolboy's grudge worth throwing away any chance of defeating the most dangerous wizard of our century?"

The explosion Dumbledore had secretly been waiting for, yes, even hoped for didn't come. Snape merely tilted his head a tiny bit and a ghost of an unpleasant smile played around his thin lips.

"Throwing away? I don't think so. IF He rises again it could actually be an advantage if I am no longer at Hogwarts. He would feel more inclined to believe that I never wavered in my devotion to him. I've got to make amends considering the disaster around the Philosopher's Stone."

"Would you really deny the reality of his return? His near return? You? Of all people?" Dumbledore nodded quietly when he got no answer. "I thought so. And I am afraid to disappoint you but it would look rather suspicious if you left now while you did not two years ago after he had shown himself for the first time. A faithful servant would have gone after him, would have searched for his master then. If only," he smiled faintly, "to make amends."

"Maybe I could not leave without raising YOUR suspicion. Then." The silk was back, although barely hiding the sharp blade underneath this time. "Maybe I was waiting for the right opportunity ever since. Maybe you just gave me enough reason to do it now last night."

Dumbledore put the folded resignation on the desk and rested his fingertips on it. "That could be a possibility but nevertheless you would be useless for him without a connection to Hogwarts. To me."

"I'd have the knowledge of twelve years."

"But would that be enough?"

Snape tilted his head the other direction. "Maybe."

"It would not," Dumbledore said firmly. "Your value will be your access to my inner circle. Your ability to deceive me and those I trust, to keep him informed about our plans. He ordered you into this school, into my presence in the vague hope you would accomplish just that, did he not? Although he never expected you to succeed. You know I am right, Severus."

"Maybe." Snape's eyes glinted angrily. His lips were barely moving. "But still, I will not stay. I've got enough, Headmaster. I won't take this any longer. And you can't make me."

"Can't I?"

The softly spoken words hung in the ugly silence. And then Dumbledore felt a pang of sudden, unfamiliar worry as the unpleasant smile returned to Snape's lips.

"No, you can't." Snape's voice was barely a whisper, yet vibrating with triumphant malice. "Not this time. My leaving has nothing to do with the Dark Lord and you know it."

"I thought we just agreed it would affect your possibilities as his spy..."

"I don't have to be a part of this school for that. I don't have to be a teacher to be a member of the Order of the Phoenix if and when you reactivate it sometime in the future."

"You will no longer be near me. And you will no longer be near Harry Potter."

"Do you really think He would allow anybody to harm a hair of your precious boy's head? Not in the world. HE will be the one to kill the famous Boy-Who-Lived. No one else. He owes it to his pride, his self-esteem. He needs it to restore his unaffected authority and power."

Dumbledore shrugged. His steady gaze was hard. "That would leave me then."

"Oh, we would stay in contact of course. And if he wants you dead it wouldn't take much. A confidential report, we two alone in a room..." Snape's eyes were glittering as he shook his head. "No, Dumbledore, I'm not breaking anything here. At least nothing that has not already been broken."

A long moment the two so different men stared at each other.

"I told you," Snape hissed suddenly. "All this year I told you he was not to be trusted."

"Remus did not help Black get into the castle."

"Did he not? He was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. If HE didn't figure out how Black was able to get past the Dementors considering he KNEW his friend was an illegal Animagus - who else should? But, oh, I forgot -" Snape's eyes were burning brightly, "- he never happened to mention that little fact, did he?"

Dumbledore folded his hands in his long sleeves. "Yes, we had a talk about that this morning. And I certainly expressed my disappointment."

"How mortifying." Snape sneered. "I'm sure the little werewolf was crushed. The little, TAME werewolf who was running free all over the school in his youth!"

"That was part of our conversation too." Dumbledore's voice was still completely neutral. His eyes betrayed nothing.

Snape glared at him, his face twitching every now and then with suppressed emotions.

"Why?" he asked suddenly, his voice rising with every sentence. "He betrayed your trust, he broke every promise he gave you, every rule you set up. Why do you still speak up for him while you can not do the same thing for me? Why is his word still worth more than mine? Why is everyone's word still worth more than mine?"

"I take it, you are talking about this ... little scene we had last night?"

"YOU MADE A FOOL OF ME IN THE HOSPITAL WING!" For a moment, a split second Snape's face again showed the terrible, insane fury of the night before.

"Don't you rather mean you made a fool of yourself?"

"POTTER - HELPED - BLACK - ESCAPE!"

"Well, there's still the little fact that even Harry can't be in two places at the same time."

"He could. With Granger's Time-Turner. And you knew that all along."

It was hard to tell what was more terrible. The sudden calmness of Snape's voice or the fierce fire in his dark eyes. But Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows and even smiled.

"Ah, so you finally found that out, didn't you? I knew you would get the right idea as soon as you calmed down a bit. I guess I should be grateful you were so ... distracted by other things this year and - how shall I put it? - not up to your usual standard of observation. What did you do, check her timetables?"

"The exams she had taken." Snape's fists were clenched tightly. "Why? Why did you do that? Black's a murderer! He would have killed me, he killed a fellow wizard, he killed all those Muggles! He does not deserve one of your famous 'second chances'!"

"Well, last night brought a few things to light that change..."

"You can not be serious!" Snape looked livid. "Don't tell me you have fallen for that nonsense about Peter Pettigrew being alive!"

"Actually, yes. I talked to Sirius and also to Lupin this morning and..."

"You can't believe them! Black would have told you anything to escape the Dementors' kiss and -"

"The kiss you were so eager to have applied - on your own account?" Dumbledore's voice cut like a knife.

"The kiss was sanctioned by the Ministry..."

"And you were in such a hurry to serve, weren't you?" Now Dumbledore's eyes were flashing. "A place in the headlines for the man who brought Sirius Black to justice."

"I did not -"

"Finally all the recognition you did not get for the role you played in the first war against Voldemort!"

"I -"

"Order of Merlin, Second Class, maybe even First - oh, yes, the loss probably hit you hard!"

"Beyond the veil with the blasted order!" roared Snape furiously. "Black was a traitor! A murderer! He deserves the kiss!"

"Because of what he is supposed to have done in that alley or because of what he did to you in your youth?" Dumbledore knew he should stop but his temper and disappointment finally got the better of him.

"He tried to KILL me!"

"And that's enough to justify you killing him?"

"He killed dozens of Muggles!"

"If only I could believe you acted because of something else than your own selfish pride -"

"He betrayed the Order!"

"- I really would have thought you would be able to outgrow your old grudges -"

"He betrayed YOU!"

"- but no, you still wallow in past injustice without giving a damn about the bigger picture..."

"HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER!" The scream seemed to be ripped from the bottom of Snape's soul. "And he gave them away! He gave her away to VOLDEMORT!"

Silence. Deep, deafening, suffocating silence. Then Snape abruptly spun around and slammed both hands against the shelf behind his desk, glass jars rattling and shaking as he gripped the wood hard, so hard as if he was trying to break it or maybe his own fingers.

And as Dumbledore stared open-mouthed at the heaving shoulders he suddenly understood what he should have realized more than two years ago; suddenly knew with terrible, shocking certainty what EXACTLY the dark-haired Potions master must have seen in the Mirror of Erised.

"Oh, Severus..."

Not what he said. Never what he said, never what he had so stubbornly repeated over and over again all this year. But always the things he did not say.

Closing his eyes in pain Dumbledore lifted his face to the ceiling then shook his head and looked back at the trembling man who had turned away from him. Looked at the white knuckles clawing groaning wood. Deep sadness and regret shone in his ancient blue eyes.

"Oh, Severus, forgive an old man's mistake. But you are so good at this, so good at..."

At hiding, deceiving, manipulating; at making people see only what they wanted to see. But he said none of that. Instead he drew a long breath and as he spoke again his voice was low and steady.

"As you, as a teacher, know the Headmaster of Hogwarts has means to monitor any magical activity going on within the boundaries of this school. It is very strenuous and during the day at best extremely confusing and so not often used. But after Black's second intrusion I saw no other way to ensure the student's safety at night."

Dumbledore paused briefly and his tone became softer.

"I don't have to tell you why I was late to start the spell yesterday evening but you may imagine my surprise when, not long after I had set up my watch, I became aware of three huge outbursts of magic outside the castle. One was, of course, Professor Lupin's transformation into a wolf. The second was Sirius Black, changing into -" here Dumbledore hesitated a split second and then decided to set that special bit of information aside, "- his Animagus form. The third ... was Peter Pettigrew, assuming once more the form he had learned to take with the help of his old classmates when they became unregistered Animagi: A rat."

Calmly, seriously Dumbledore continued to lay out the often jumbled pieces of information he himself had only gathered last night and in the early hours of the following morning.

How Lupin - poor, without a job and since the unfortunate incident in their sixth year at Hogwarts more and more distanced from his friends - had been excluded from their plans because they had no longer dared to trust him. How James Potter and Sirius Black had decided to change the person of Secret-Keeper at the last possible moment without telling even him, Dumbledore. How Snape himself, while aware that someone was passing on information from within the Order, had not been high enough in the Dark Lord's esteem to find out who it was, not the least because he had failed to get the post of the Defence Against the Dark teacher at Hogwarts. How Pettigrew - tiny, fat, disregarded Peter Pettigrew - had betrayed the Potter's hiding place to his secret master and in the end managed to best Black after Voldemort's downfall by faking his own death. And how Black - in misplaced pride and guilt - had refused to scream out the truth and went to Azkaban in stubborn silence.

One by one Dumbledore put down all these titbits of information - where Pettigrew had hidden all those years, what had shaken Black out of his reproachful self-punishment and had let him to break free of his prison, the events of last night - until everything was spread out in front of Snape like a great, disorderly puzzle.

He knew better than to draw conclusions for the other man.

Whatever he thought of Snape's character, his morality, even his loyalty ... he knew better than to underestimate the amazing intelligence that worked behind those so carefully guarded eyes - as long as the man's flaring temper did not get in the way. Even now he could almost see how the Potions master's mind sorted through the mass of information he had just given him; picking up this, picking up that and turning it over and around, testing it like glittering jewels. Arranging the tiny fragments of facts in ever new patterns to see what made sense, what chain of events withstood best any critical examination. And when he finally reached his solution it was with a deep, low, menacing growl that vibrated in the still air.

"Pettigrew..."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and drew a deep, deep breath then opened them again, looked back at the tall man in black robes who still refused to face him. Looked at the long fingers still gripping the shelf with crushing force.

"So -" His gentle voice seemed an intruder in the all-consuming silence. "- I can expect my Potions master's annual application for the post of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher on my desk at the usual time?"

Long moments passed. Eternities. And then finally, slowly, the bent dark head nodded once.

"Good," whispered Dumbledore softly. "Good."