A/N1: First – thanks to you all for the incredible support and encouragement. We are really happy that the story, which brings so much pleasure to two weird girls, actually brings joy to somebody else too.

Second – thanks for your patience. I can't promise that the fourth chapter will appear much more quickly (though it could happen!), because we do love our plotting online sessions and polishing times, but it will definitely appear. Till that time, try Wade's livejournal (the link is in her ff profile, go via my Favorite Authors); there are some interesting background and behind-the-scene tidbits about this story and many other tasty things.

Though it's my time to post now, I have to say this chapter has two loving and caring parents. Both of us conceived this idea then I was bearing it for some time and finally gave birth to a screaming, wrinkled draft. After this, Wade took care of the crying baby and sent it back as this glamorous younglady. Hail to Wade, my writing teacher and precious friend!

Danae

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Severus opened his eyes wide into the darkness. He lay motionless on his bed, listening to the loud pounding of his heart. His room was quiet and dark, except for the occasional beam of light passing across his ceiling from a lonely car on the street. There were still a few hours till dawn.

He had a dream.

He has never had dreams, or if he did, he's never remembered any of them. He's never been envious of people who had dreams, either – well, perhaps when he was a child, but he didn't remember it. Sleep has always been a dark harbor for him; a refuge, safe from memories of guilt, pain, or despair. The fact that after closing his eyes the entire world would disappear for hours made even the worst years of his life bearable. The awkward years at school, the horrible years in the service of the Dark Lord, the awful year after Dumbledore's death – most of his days seemed like a nightmare. He was glad he could avoid nightmares of the night. It was one of the secrets of his survival.

Severus winced. But tonight he had a dream. He didn't see anything – neither images nor faces. However, he did hear voices. A girl's voice full of despair, a man's voice heavy with weariness. But when he tried to remember the words and sentences, they just slid through his fingers like slippery fishes. He could only make out the last three words: Take him away! It scared him, because he simply didn't know what was happening. And it felt so real. He rose from his bed and went to the kitchen. He needed something to drink.

He came back with a glass of water and sat on the bed. Sipping the water, he mused on the reason for tonight's strange experience. It must be the unusual time for sleep. In last six years the day was his night, and at night he usually drove his taxi. But it looked like these times were over, and tomorrow he would wake up in the morning like so many ordinary people. Ordinary. With a sigh he put the glass on a nightstand and lay down again. He tried to fall asleep, but after few minutes he found himself staring at the wall and thinking of his new job. He had bad feeling about it--he knew he would regret this decision sooner of later. The problem was, he couldn't say if he wouldn't have regretted refusing more. He wondered if instinct was behind his decision, or foolishness, or some sense of compassion for Miss Granger's plight. Be it one or all three, it was definitely going to put an end to his peaceful life.

Severus snorted into the dark. A peaceful life. Hardly anyone would describe a career as a taxi driver as peaceful. But he didn't drive a car for any of those big radio taxi companies that watched their cars at every moment, controlled their drivers like little children and were able to count the route to the meter with a penny in advance. He was self-employed and the nights were his. Most of his customers didn't care, but some of them appreciated it. The quiet young call girls, getting on his car at 3 a.m., and similarly, the experienced prostitutes from the city, their heels only a bit higher and the circles under their eyes slightly darker; robust men with leather coats and big tips; the celebrities who tottered out of suspicious doors at all hours. His experience as a spy was a big asset--he knew too well what to remember and what to forget, when it was good to talk and when it was better to stay quiet. That was the reason why many of them waited just for him in their usual places on their usual nights, letting other taxis pass one by one. They trusted his silence. And any conflicts he had over the years were quickly solved by the cold voice and glare he used on his students so long ago.

Severus looked at the alarm clock with a scowl. Fifteen to five. Damnit, ruddy dream – there was no way he could go back to sleep now. He stood up, switched on the lamp and walked into the kitchen to make his morning coffee.

oOo

"No, Mrs. Waterspoon, the gold dressing gown with a red china dragon on the back is definitely not the right dress when you go to visit the mayor to complain about the neighbors' kids behavior. Why? Because it's not what Muggles wear in public. It's bedroom attire. You must have some other muggle dress at home? Well, overalls aren't bad at all..."

A warm feminine voice filled the room Severus was observing. It was quite a large office with a big table in the middle, a huge bookcase by the opposite wall, and three smaller desks along each of the walls on his left and right. On the wall in front of each desk was a small fireplace – but currently, only one was lit. At the desk sat a young black girl talking with admirable patience to the head of a grumpy old witch. Aside from her there was just him and Hermione in the room. It was past 8 a.m. and they were touring the DIA, Hermione full of energy and with a broad smile on her face. Although he knew it was a professional smile, he still felt slightly impressed—it was so rare an expression during her school years. Then again, she hardly had any reason to smile in his presence, now did she? Severus noticed that she looked much more rested today than the day before. Her clothing was still impeccable and the dark circles were now gone. Her eyes, however, still haunted him with their emptiness.

"…And this is headquarters. There are eight of us in the department, usually five people for the day shift, which begins at nine, and just one during the night as an emergency," she continued as they walked toward the young witch. "Francoise Zabini, this is Samuel Hawke. He will be helping us out for a while." Turning back to Severus, she continued, "Francoise is one of our most competent workers."

Francoise smiled at the compliment before she returned to the grumpy witch in the fire. She was really young—about nineteen, Severus guessed.

"Zabini?" he asked quietly.

"Right," Hermione nodded, opening the door to her office. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin House. The best N.E.W.T. of Muggle Studies for last eighty years. Extraordinary member of our team."

Severus found he couldn't take his eyes off Francoise. She looked a lot like Blaise. Who knows what happened to him, he thought. He simply nodded in response as they continued across the room. "Other than hiring workers, Ms. Granger, what is your role in the department?" he asked.

"I mostly serve an advisory role to the Minister. As a member of his Cabinet, I oversee all public relations between the Wizarding world and the Muggle world," she explained.

Entering her office, the elegant snowflakes outside the window caught his attention. It lied again, today there was just mud on the streets of London.

She nodded towards the chair opposite her desk and waited for him to take his seat. There was no smile on her face anymore as she studied at him intently. It seemed she was pondering how to start. Severus leaned back in ostensible coolness, but inside he felt tense. He expected a confrontation.

"You are certainly aware that not only your job, but also your peaceful freedom depends on one crucial piece if information," Hermione began as she opened the drawer and laying the tattered parchment on her desk. "How did you get this?"

He expected this, just not right away and without any fuss. He smiled to himself and crossed his arms over his chest. Despite her underlying threat, the lack of arrest-hungry Aurors indicated that he held all the cards.

"I gave a lift to a man…right away he seemed suspicious. Had his hat low and his collar turned up so I couldn't see his face. I brushed it off, because the rule of thumb in this job is to mind one's own business and to see and hear as little as possible. Then he gave the address to the Leaky Cauldron. Said it wasn't well marked and not to worry if I couldn't find it, just dropping him off close enough would do. I found it interesting."

Hermione narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and nodded. Severus went on:

"Then his cell phone rang and he whispered when he started to talk, but after a while something upset him and he raised his voice. The last words I heard very clearly: 'I don't want step back. I would just choose another place, that's all.' When he finished, he took a piece of paper out of his pocket and started to study it very carefully. By the time we reached the Leaky, I knew something was up and decided to find out what was going on. I drove away very slowly and watched him in the rearview mirror. When he entered the Leaky Cauldron, I put on the brake and ran after him. I hit the courtyard just at the moment he was going through the gate to Diagon Alley. He must have been too preoccupied, because he didn't notice me. When I saw that the strange paper still sticking out of his pocket, it was more an instinct than a clever idea. I accio'd it a second before he disappeared. I'm almost sure he didn't know what happened."

Hermione rested her chin on her hand. "So you're telling me that this person transfers between the Muggle world and the Wizarding world without any problem, has security clearance to write on Ministry parchments and is somehow connected to the recent attack?"

Standing up she walked to the tall bookcase and took out Who's Who in the Wizarding World, a huge book covered in red leather. "I would guess it could be someone from the Half-bloods or Muggle-borns," she said, opening the book with her back still turned to Severus. "Purebloods are usually worthless when it comes to coping with Muggles, and they usually don't care to."

"But they usually do enjoy tormenting them," he corrected.

"True. But using a cell phone? Way too sophisticated for the average witch or wizard. It doesn't say much, but it could be a clue anyway. By the way, what time did he stop you the other night?"

"It happened a week ago."

He watched her stiffen. She slowly turned around, a horrified look on her face, the open book still in her hands. "What? You mean to say... You had the date of the last attack in you hands for a week and you didn't warn anyone?"

"I was hardly able to do that."

"Why, for the heavens sake?"

"Because a week ago there wasn't the date of the recent attack."

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. "Look, Mr. Hawke, if this is some kind of sick joke, I have 100 burned children in St. Mungo's who don't find it funny."

"I'm absolutely serious," he interrupted her impatiently. "Believe me, I'm not so generous to leave the ten thousands galleon reward unclaimed. If there had been the third date, I wouldn't have hesitated for a moment. But there were just two of them."

She put the book on the desk and sat again. Her face and voice were fully controlled again, but Severus guessed it was just a facade. He could tell she was plenty angry. "Suppose you are telling me the truth. When did the third date appear then?"

He shrugged slightly. "All I know for sure is that two days before the attack there was nothing. That's when I spotted the advert for this position and thought you might be interested. That was the last time I checked the parchment. I put it into my pocket and didn't look at it until yesterday morning when I read the news in the Daily Prophet."

"So it could have happened anytime during those two days..." Hermione lifted the parchment and looked at it intently, turning it over in the light. "What could it be? Do you think the third date was there before or after the last attack?"

Severus sneered. "I don't underestimate your research skills, Miss Granger. I'm sure you have checked this for invisible writing and numerous other concealment charms. Believe me, I did the same. All these tests were negative."

She lifted up her eyes and looked at him critically. "So...?"

"What about some kind of communicator?" he suggested. "A parchment with a twin – when you write something on it, it will appear on the second one as well and vice versa. There are dozens of magical items that work that way." After all, who else would know better then her? Her magical coins were a hot topic in the teacher's lounge for many months after her fifth year.

Hermione nodded but scowled immediately. "But if that man lost his parchment two weeks ago, then what sense did it make to use the other one?"

"There could be more of them. They might think this one is simply lost. And considering nobody prevented that fire, or even suspected an attack that night, then they have no idea that anyone of consequence has it."

"That would explain a lot," she murmured, looking again at the parchment. There was a long period of absolute silence. Hermione seemed lost in her thoughts, eyes lowered, one single strain of her nut-brown hair falling into her face.

Finally she lifted her head and smiled at him slightly.

"If you are telling the truth, you are a damn lucky man, Mr. Hawke. You were in the right place at the right time and crucial evidence just seemed to hop into your hands."

"I have no reason to lie to you," Severus said quietly. He meant it. He couldn't explain exactly why, but he wanted her to trust him.

Once again, Hermione looked into his eyes as she considered all he had said. He could tell she was weighing something in her mind. "In that case D.I.A. will use you biggest strength," she finally said. "We need eyes and ears in the Muggle world. Most magic folk are unable to blend in so well, or I'd send in a DIA member or an Auror. But to be honest, we don't have the time to develop a background for one or train them properly. Do you still have your car?"

Severus nodded.

"Then continue in your work. If you will, talk to your clients. Gage public response. Listen for underground whispers and rumors. Anything that might be helpful or informative, not only to the investigation, but also anything that would help us with public relations. Report to me in the mornings. The rest of your day is free…starting today." She took a piece of paper out of her desk and began to write on it. "Now if you'll excuse me," she continued as she handed him the paper, "I have a press conference with the Minister and Auror spokesman in a half-hour."

He looked at the paper quizzically. Nine twenty-seven Grey Street. "What's this?"

"My address," she replied, matter-of-fact. "If these people have an insider in the Ministry, then I don't want them seeing you hanging around here. It would kind of defeat the purpose of a spy, now wouldn't it?" She smiled at his look of skepticism. "Not that I don't trust you, but should you try anything funny, I would warn you that Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes set up my home security system."

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "Point well taken."

She stood up to indicate the meeting was over. Shaking hands at her office door, she repeated, "Damned lucky man." She smiled a genuine smile. "I hope this luck will stay with you."

oOo

Severus left Hermione's office exactly at nine o'clock. The elevator was so full that Severus hardly got in; he had to use his elbows while mumbling something that could be considered an apology. As the elevator started to go down, he noticed that there were more than twenty people in the cabin, but all of them were unusually quiet. Some just starred dumbly forward, still unable to cope with the fact that it was a new working day. A few others held the Friday Daily Prophet, trying to read amidst the jostling. The loudest sounds were the rustling of the paper airplanes around the elevator light and the swish of turning pages.

Soon the silence was interrupted by a young voice. "Could I catch one, Daddy? I just want to look how it is made so I can make one at home."

A few witches smiled as a man's voice answered something quietly. Severus sneered. He could get on very well without the girl's high-pitched voice so early in the morning.

"Of course I will release it! I just want to look!" said the little voice impatiently.

After a moment, the excited face of a little girl with bright brown eyes and two pigtails appeared over the heads of the sluggish wizards and a little hand grabbed one of the airplanes in a flash before she disappeared again.

For the next few moments only the rustling and swishing could be heard. Then the man's voice spoke, this time a little louder. "Now release him, Lily. That was the deal." The airplane flew back up to the light and Severus started. He hadn't heard that voice for eleven years, and he was hoping he would never hear it again.

It was the voice of Remus Lupin.

As the elevator stopped at the fifth floor, a few people got out and Severus used this opportunity to squeeze himself to the back wall of elevator, as far as possible from the voice of the invisible Lupin. He figured his old schoolmate wouldn't recognize him face to face, but he didn't dare risk it; after all, Remus Lupin has known him much longer that anyone else who survived the war. They never got along very well as it was, and then after Dumbledore's death... Severus was sure if Lupin knew he was here in the elevator, his next meal would be dinner in Azkaban.

At the sixth floor, a burly witch stepped into the cabin and right in front of Severus, hiding him nicely. He could hear Lupin talking to the girl about her mum, whom they probably escorted to work today. He kept his fingers crossed. The next stop was the atrium, and no doubt Lupin with the girl would get out there. Severus promised himself that he would be quite careful and never cross paths with Lupin again. Good thing he never had to show up to the Ministry again.

When the elevator finally stopped at the atrium, the rest of wizards and witches began to crowd out of the cabin. Severus pressed himself to the wall and held his breath. No risking. He could just take an extra ride on the elevator to give Lupin time to leave the Ministry. Anything to avoid a confrontation. The plump witch in front of him was the last to leave, and as the doors closed, he realized that only two people remained in the cabin with him: Remus Lupin and the little girl, just tall enough to reach Lupin's elbow.

Severus gulped nervously when the golden grill shut with a loud clang and the elevator moved again with just the three of them on board. He tried to calm himself and leaned nonchalantly against the wall. Perhaps they had an appointment on the next floor. But as the floors lurched by, he began to worry. He glanced over at his ex-colleague. Lupin still looked the same--ten years barely touched him. Actually, he looked better than ever. His face wasn't so sick and pale, the nice black habit he wore suited him, and the kind expression on his face when he talked to the little girl showed he was quite a happy man. Severus then looked at the girl – she gesticulated exuberantly and her brown eyes gleamed. Lupin's eyes. Who was her mother, anyway?

The girl caught his eyes and smiled. He scowled a bit and turned her out of his sight – and right into Lupin's. His look was watchful and searching as he carefully scanned the scar, than lowered his eyes to a name badge Severus had on his chest. When he looked up again, he almost smiled.

"How nice to meet an old schoolmate after so many years! We haven't seen each other for ages..." Again he glanced at the badge, "...Samuel."

Severus' heart skipped a beat and he firmly palmed his wand in his pocket. An accident, right? He had to try, though.

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. I really don't remember studying with you, Mr..."

"Lupin." Lupin's smile widened but his eyes narrowed. "Remus Lupin." The elevator stopped with a loud bang at the bottom floor. It wouldn't move until one of them pressed a button. Lupin shifted to his right a bit so his back covered the control panel. Severus was trapped.

"I'm sure you will remember me once I name a few things we went through together. We share some common memories from our teenage years – and from our adult ones, as well."

Severus thought frantically how to get out of this tight corner. It wasn't possible to simply run away – there was just one staircase at the end of the hall and Lupin would certainly alarm all the Aurors before he could even get to the front door. The hand clasping his wand was sweaty. He could try a memory charm – Lupin wasn't holding his wand in his hand, he could be quicker. But what about the girl? He tried not to panic. Damn elevator, going right to Azkaban!

His silence interrupted the girl's voice. "Who is it, Daddy?"

"Samuel Hawke," Lupin answered, his eyes never leaving Severus' face. "An old schoolmate from Hogwarts. Do you remember what I told you about Hogwarts?"

"I do, but I can't remember anyone called Samuel."

"We weren't at the same House. But later we worked together as teachers and we even fought in the war together. Look at him carefully, Lily, because this is how the war hero looks."

She stared at Severus, beaming. "Are you really a hero, sir?"

Severus swallowed hard and clenched his fists. What kind of game was Lupin playing? Wasn't it enough he had him cornered? Was he trying to mock him, to kick him down for good? He searched Lupin's eyes looking for any sign of derision, disdain, or hatred – but he didn't see any of them there. He saw caution and expectation, but nothing else. It just didn't make sense.

Severus gave a heavy sigh. "I am not a hero, little one," he said, turning to the girl. "I just did my duty, same as your father and many others."

"And what are you doing here and now, Samuel?" Lupin asked quietly.

Severus barely recognized his hoarse voice. "The same, Remus." There was a long moment as the two men locked eyes. Finally, Lupin stepped away from the wall, pushed the button marked Atrium and the elevator went up with a pull.

"I would like to invite you for a dinner," Lupin added. "I am sure my wife won't object."

"Your wife?"

"Nymphadora Tonks. Surely you remember her?" Severus nodded. Who could forget the clumsy Auror? Oh Merlin, an Auror. "Lily here is our oldest," he said with a smile as he patted the little girl's head. "Her younger sister, Cassie, is visiting her grandmother today, and we expect the youngest one in few months."

Severus shifted a little. "I'm not sure it would be wise to tell your wife about...Well, not many people know of me. No one, actually." He hoped Lupin would be astute enough to understand his meaning.

Lupin lifted an eyebrow and nodded. "All the same, you must come. Otherwise I would be forced to send you another invitation." Lupin's voice was still warm, but Severus recognized the warning very clearly.

The elevator stopped at the atrium again and the grill opened. Lupin, Severus and Lily quickly stepped out before the wave of waiting people hurried in. Lupin reached into his habit, pulled out a piece of paper and a small quill and jotted down his address.

"Well?" he asked expectantly giving it to Severus.

"I'll come," Severus nodded with a scowl.

"Good man," Lupin smiled widely and patted him on his shoulder. "I'll see you on Sunday at six p.m. then."

He took Lily into his arms and walked towards the Floo network. As he grabbed a bit of Floo powder, Severus called out to him. "Remus, how did you..."

"Oh," Remus grinned and tapped his nose. "I have a wicked sense of smell. You appearance may change, but you still have a very distinctive scent, Samuel."

Severus watched aghast as the Remus and the girl stepped into the flames. Hermione

was right. He was a damned lucky man. For today anyway.

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A/N2: Lupin's words a wicked sense of smell are my beloved quote from Wade's story Behind the Closed Door of Order. Do not miss this special fic!