Looking back on it, Alice thought it was probably a good thing she hadn't eaten for hours, otherwise the use of the portkey would have made her sick up. It would have put her in a worse mood, since she had already landed on her backside upon arrival while her two companions managed to set down gracefully beside her.

As she stood, Alice glanced at her surroundings, taking in the numerous bookshelves and portraits that lined the large oval room she was in. Most of the portraits occupants were asleep while a few were empty. She noticed a few were simply feigning sleep, though she hadn't a clue as to why they would.

Situated at one end of the room was a large desk covered in parchment, folders, and what looked to be tins of candy. Two plush armchairs sat in front of it, the cushions a dark shade of plum.

Small tables were scattered around the room, on top of which were a number of small silver instruments of all shapes. Some were moving rhythmically, while one was even producing puffs of smoke in the shape of triangles.

A clearing of a throat got her attention, and she noticed that Dumbledore was sitting in a high backed chair behind the large desk, clearing the clutter atop it.

Snape had chosen to stand by the window rather than sit, his gaze affixed to the waning moon in the sky. His back was to her, but she could tell he wasn't purposely ignoring her. She could hear his heavy breathing, and noticed that he was bent over slightly, his palms pressed to the windowsill.

'He's nervous.'

Her attention turned back to Dumbledore, who gestured to the armchairs in front of his desk. Alice made her way over to the one on the right and unshouldered her backpack. Placing it down so it leaned on the side, she sank into the chair, thankful that it was much more comfortable than the plastic one she had had no choice but to sit in for over eight hours.

"Severus, come sit down for tea."

Alice thought 'what tea?', but was startled when a polished silver tea service popped into existence in the only free space on the otherwise full desk. The steaming pot in the center reflected well enough for her to see that Severus had chosen not to ignore Dumbledore, and was coming up behind her to sit in the other chair.

Severus settled himself into the armchair as Dumbledore began to pour tea into three cups. Alice could see he was still taking deep breaths. 'Please don't have a panic attack. Please, for the love of all things magical, don't have a panic attack.' She faced Dumbledore, who met her eyes. She tilted her head towards the man in the chair beside her, to which the elderly man sighed.

She watched as Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a vial of blue liquid, which he uncorked and poured a small amount into one of the tea cups. With a gesture of his hand, the tea cup, and it's saucer, floated gently through the air to the black clad man and settled itself in his lap. Another cup and it's saucer approached Alice, and she reached up to grab it.

Though she had never been much of a tea drinker, Alice wasn't about to pass up putting something in her stomach, knowing well enough that something was better than nothing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Snape begin to lift his cup to his lips, though there was a slight shake to his movements. After the first sip, however, he visibly relaxed.

'Hope that was some long lasting stuff, because somehow I think he's gonna need it.'

"Now, I do believe you were promised answers. And we will do our best to answer them." He gave a pointed look to Snape, who was staring straight forward at a bookcase situated behind Dumbledore. But with a slight nod of his head he agreed and took another sip of his tea. Dumbledore continued, "However there are some things we cannot tell you. A great many things, in fact. But for now, let us begin with what you do know." He took a sip of his tea before he spoke again.

"I have little doubt you have heard about the unfortunate events that occurred at the final task of the Tri-wizard Tournament; the death of Cedric Diggory and the return of Lord Voldemort. Our nation's Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has denied the evidence shown to him on the latter and refuses to believe the truth. But still it remains: Lord Voldemort is among us once more.

"You had only just been born when he fell at the end of the first war," a look crossed Snape's face at this that only Dumbledore caught, "and I am certain that even if you have covered the events in your history classes, you have no idea how horrible the times were. Suffice it to say, for all our sakes, I pray it does not become as bad, or worse, this time."

Alice was sure she should feel more fear than she did, but at the moment anger rose in her that became more prevalent. Her dark eyes narrowed at the Headmaster across from her, and her gaze switched from him to the man, her father, next to her. Her glare went back and forth between the two several times before she berated them. "And what the hell made you think it was a good idea to bring me here?"

Severus turned his attention from the bookcase to speak to her, the potion that had been in his tea having effectively calming him enough to become a part of the conversation. "It was for your safety. The closer you are the easier it will be to ensure your safety."

The idea of him wanting to keep her safe made her feel strange. It lessened her anger, but without that anger the fear in her clamoured in her mind and her words came out in a slightly higher pitch. "How is being closer safer?! Normal people run from danger."

She had been hopeful that neither man had noticed, but no such luck would be found. Both men knew how to read people, and the rise in her voice evoked feelings of regret that she would have to go through things no child should have to. The urge to hold her in his arms overcame Severus, an urge that was difficult to suppress, but he nevertheless did so. Doing that might frighten her more. But he feared what telling her the truth about who and what he was would be worse.

The truth that, no matter how much he didn't want to tell her, had to be said.

"Normalcy is not something that can be attributed to people in our positions."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

He was silent then, trying to work up the nerve to say it, but after several moments he found he couldn't. His eyes met with the ice blue ones across from him and the slight smile of encouragement from the other man seemed to be just enough to let out one sentence.

"It means that you are currently sitting in the presence of the leader of the primary resistance group against the Dark Lord, and his Death Eater spy. I trust you don't have to guess which is which?"