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Harry thought for a moment, trying to order his thoughts so that he could best answer Remus. After all, he wasn't sure about the situation and didn't want to mislead anyone. No matter what Snape thought about his motives. "When I went in, they were in a meeting with what I guess was another watcher and his slayer. His name was Mr. Zabuto. At least, that's how Professor Snape addressed him. I don't know who the slayer was, but she seemed to be very businesslike, though she had a vulnerability about her that Buffy lacks. Mr. Zabuto was telling them about Trelawney's grandmother and her prophecy."

"Professor, Harry," Remus corrected, though he agreed with Harry's point. It was hard to respect anything Trelawney did, even if she had made a few correct predictions in her time.

"What?" he asked, startled by the interruption. His head cocked to the side, studying Remus' curiously, all to aware of the professor's opinion about her.

Remus slightly smiled. "You should address her as Professor Trelawney, even though you don't respect her. She is still one of your teachers."

"All right," he reluctantly agreed with him. "Professor Trelawney's grandmother," he spoke with exaggerated emphasis on the title.

"That'll do, Harry," he warned, stifling a chuckle.

"Well, her grandmother, Cassandra Trelawney, gave some prophecy about Voldemort joining forces with the mayor of Sunnydale in his bid for world domination. Apparently, the mayor has access to demons that ol' Voldie doesn't."

"Mr. Potter," Severus drawled from an open doorway. "While you see no reason to fear the Dark Lord like the rest of us mere mortals, kindly refrain from mocking him. He is an evil man who, while he does not entirely deserve your respect, is worthy of your watchful eye. If you continue to mock his name, you run the risk of underestimating him, as he does you."

It was a clear warning. One Harry knew he should take to heart. But, having faced the Dark Lord before, found that he couldn't quite take seriously. "Yes, sir."

"Severus, are you going somewhere?" Remus asked, taking in the robe slung over his arm. It looked disturbingly familiar.

He nodded gravely, knowing that he would not have to say where he would be. There was no question in anyone's mind about where he going. "I shall return as soon as I can. Take care, Mr. Potter."

"But you can't go!" Harry exclaimed.

An eyebrow rose questioningly and he tilted his head curiously. "I can't?" he challengingly asked, aware of Lupin's knowing look.

"Voldemort knows that you were with us. That you protected us from him," he lamely said.

"Yes," he willingly agreed. "And if I don't go when I am called, he will kill me."

"How do you know he doesn't want to kill you now?" he challenged.

"Because I am more valuable to him alive, than dead."

"You don't know that for sure," he bitterly said.

"Ah, that's where you are wrong, Mr. Potter. I am quite aware of my position with Voldemort. As long as I am one of the highest-ranking potions master in the world and hold a position in Hogwarts, I am priceless to him. There are things that even he cannot do. If I show even the slightest hint of defection to him or the others, he will have me disposed of."

Here Harry smugly smiled, knowing he had the professor. "But you already have. You saved my life."

"What?"

"Not now, Lupin," Severus snapped at him. The pain in his arm was growing by the minute. "If you will recall that day, I attempted to save you and was unsuccessful. It was Miss. Granger who actually saved your life when she distracted Professor Quirrell, albeit by setting my robes on fires. I did nothing more than help your broom stay in the air."

"Still, you went against him." Harry felt that his argument was weakening by the moment but he couldn't let it go, just couldn't.

"To try to repay a debt owned, something that Voldemort understands only all to well. I owe my life to your father," he sneered at the mention of the elder Potter. "With that debt over my head, I cannot truly belong to him. And he does not take kindly to that fact. He hates it that his servant is not entirely own. Thus he indulges my many attempts to keep you safe, though he is ever watchful."

"What about your promise to Headmaster Dumbledore?" he threw out as a last ditch attempt to talk him out of this madness.

"I shall be back before any more field trips commence, so you will not be confined to the house for very long. You needn't fear for your precious freedom, Mr. Potter," he scathingly replied.

"Why can't you understand that it's your life I'm concerned about?" he exploded.

Shaking his head marginally, Severus couldn't quite prevent the feeling of warmth that filled him at the words. It was nice to hear that someone other than Dumbledore had a care for what happened to him. "Mr. Potter," he gently said-well, gently for him. Remus' eyebrows rose in surprise hearing the tone he used. He knew he'd have to talk to the werewolf later. "As I have said, I am far too essential to his plans for him to get rid of me. No one with any amount of intelligence kills the goose that lays golden eggs while it still gives. And while he is many things-crazily obsessed with you-stupid is not one of them."

Harry sighed, defeated at last. The professor would never yield for him alone. Then he brightened, thinking of something that he knew was important to the professor. Far more important. "What of your Slytherins? They need you."

This silenced Severus, but only for a moment. It was true. He was all his Slytherins really had. No one really knew them or trusted them. "I have seen to their care, Mr. Potter. I cannot leave them in a world where the Dark Lord holds the power. As long as I have the ability to gain this information, then I will do all that I can. Remus, I trust them to you."

It was the use of his first name that alerted Remus to the severity of the situation. "You don't think you're going to come out of this alive?" he spoke in Greek to protect Harry from the truth.

Severus was completely calm as he spoke to him, ignoring Harry's wounded look. "In all likelihood, I shall survive this night and any to come after it. Any further than that, I cannot say."

"The potion!" Harry called after Severus.

"Is on my desk," he called back. Stopping, he turned and faced the two of them once again. "If I am not back in the afternoon, convey my regrets to Mr. Osborne."

"Oz?" Remus asked in confusion.

"He wished to see me in the afternoon," he explained. Before another word was exchanged, he apparated away.

Harry watched the empty space in the doorway, his arms wrapped around his waist, trying to comfort himself. "Why must he be so stubborn?"

"Harry, Severus is what he is."

"He could die!"

"Yes, so could you," he gently reminded him. "But Severus Snape has always been compelled by reasons of honor and shame that not many could understand. In his own, rather masochistic way, it is his way of seeking redemption-for himself and for his Slytherins."

"But do they even care?" Harry asked softly.

Unnoticed until now, Blaise unfurled herself from the shadows and approached them. "We do. More than you could ever imagine, Potter."

"How long have you been there?" Remus asked, wondering why he hadn't picked up on the Slytherins' presence.

"Long enough," she shrugged. "Do not judge Slytherins based solely on what you have heard, Potter, it does not become you to be narrow minded. There is much truth in the stories, but much of it is also fabrication based upon suspicions towards Slytherin himself. I bid you a good-night."

"I hate it when they do that," Harry muttered, watching as she seemed to melt away.

"And they know it," the professor observed. "I think that's one of the reasons that they do it."

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"So, Buffy, how can I help you?" Sirius asked, vaguely troubled by Harry's attitude towards Snape but not wanting to think about it at that moment. At the moment, there was nothing he could say or do that would change it. Something about the way he was acting tingled a memory in his mind, one that he really didn't want to think about. Still, he had a feeling he was going to be forced to face it sooner or later.

Right now, the presence of the Slayer was a bit more important anyway-especially if Remus were to act in recognition of the superior hunter. He was no fool. He knew exactly what Snape was fearing, though he really didn't know how he was supposed to explain something he barely understood. He didn't have the slightest clue about how to explain it to her.

"Professor Snape made mention something about Professor Lupin and his attitude towards me. But I'm not sure I understand. Oz has never acted any differently towards me. His behavior has always been the same, even on the nights leading up to the full moon." They started to walk away from the house so as not to disrupt the students inside.

"That is because he is a non-magical werewolf," he explained.

"Yeah, Snape mentioned something about that being a big difference. He also mentioned something about Professor Lupin's senses being stronger. But what does that mean?"

"Oy, no one really understands it."

Crossing her arms over chest, she stared at him. "Then why bring it up?"

Running frustrated hands through his hair, Sirius growled. "I don't know. Most likely Severus thought you should be aware that Remus might exhibit some behavior that might make you uncomfortable."

"You know, he's not here. You can stop calling him that."

"But I have to practice saying the impossible git's name, Buffy."

She coolly looked at him. "I would prefer it if you'd call me Miss. Summers."

"But that's so unfriendly," he protested.

"I feel anything but friendly when dealing with a potential danger, Mr. Black. If you do not like it, that is your problem."

He was about to retort when she sensed something and her head whipped towards the door. A flash appeared, then quickly faded away. "What was that?"

"Apparation," he replied. At her questioning look, he gladly elaborated it, wanting to get in her good graces. He had a feeling that they would be spending some time together and the last thing he wanted was to have to hide all the time. "It's like teleportation. Wizards can apparate from one location to another when necessary. It is somewhat safer than using a broomstick, though there is the danger of splinching of one isn't properly prepared."

"I see," she said, filing the reference about broomsticks away for later. Giles would know what this guy was talking about-she'd also have to tell him that Black was there and was, presumably, innocent of any crime. "So, about Professor Lupin. Is there someway I should act about him to avoid anything that would prove to be uncomfortable for either of us to deal with once the cycle of the full moon has passed?"

"Uhm," he thought about it. "Remus will see you as the dominant hunter. All I can think of is that you not take advantage of that."

"Really not going to be a problem, I'm not into kink," she muttered. "Get down!" Without waiting for him to do so, she pushed him down and leap-frogged over him. Her leg went out and connected with the vampire that had tried to sneak up on them.

Using moves perfected over years of fighting on the Hellmouth, she brought him to his knees and then swiftly staked him.

Sirius stared at her, mouth open in shock.

Now, he was wary of the girl. If nothing else, this had proven to him how truthful she had been. How honest they all had been with him.

The slayer was no myth.

"Does this happen often?" he asked, his voice sounding very old in his ears.

Brushing off her hands, she nodded briskly. "Of course. This is the Hellmouth, not the Bahamas. I'm going to pop in and see Willow. Thanks for the not help," she commented before leaving.

"Well," he muttered. "It isn't as if I was prepared for a slayer and her questionable power over my friend, is it? Snape, I really hate you."

In the distance he could almost hear the mocking laughter. The snide and cold reply that was so typical of the Slytherin, no more than I hate you, Black. If such a thing is possible when one considers the source.

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A few minutes after he joined them, Draco got up. "I'm going to get a snack. Want anything?" he offered, feeling that he should.

Ron thought for a moment, then looked at the research they had left to do. "I'll get them. You seem to know more about this stuff than I do."

Willow rose, not wanting to shoulder the burden of the work herself. Or let either of them get away with not helping. Plus, she really wanted to stretch her legs. "Let's all go. That way, no one can accuse anyone of anything."

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"Miss. Summers," Remus welcomed her politely. Inside, he shivered a little with fear at the sight of the blonde slayer standing so close to him. Logically, he knew that it was the moon's cycle that made more of her appearance than was necessary. That she meant him no harm and understood like no one else the true nature of his being.

He couldn't stop it from happening all the same. This young woman could kill him faster than a fully trained wizard. The genetic memory of the werewolf remembered all to well the part of slayers in the slow deterioration of werewolves in the world.

The Slayer was one of the only predators they feared-and revered.

Feared because they had the power to stop them. Revered for it was the slayer who set them free of the curse that left them strangers in their own bodies. Slaves to the moon's cycles and took nothing of them for a trophy. They allowed them to rest in peace.

She noticed that, although he looked the same, there was a guarded air about him. "Professor," she returned the greeting, being as careful as she could. It was hard because she didn't understand how to be anything but what she was-she couldn't even resort to her typical, snide mocking attitude towards those in positions of power. "Do you know where Willow is?"

"I believe that she and Ron Weasley are in the library working on a project," he replied. "Would you like me to get her?"

"Nah," she waved off the offer. "Thanks anyway, I'll see her later. Uhm, Harry said there was some stuff you wanted to know about the vampires in the area."

"Yes," he slowly answered her. "If it isn't too much trouble, may I ask you a few questions about the demons you've come across? And those that you've killed? I'm afraid that our books aren't accurate, they say that the Master is still living. Though I hear from Harry that that is not true."

Smiling, though wary of talking about such things, she nodded. Giles had wanted her to cooperate with them, for Willow's sake if not their own. "He's correct. I pounded him into pemmican at the start of my junior year."

"Junior year?" he repeated, confused by the term.

"I guess you would call it your eleventh year of school?" she guessed, trying to remember what she'd been told by Harry on their way to the mansion.

"Oh, I see," he nodded.

Still trying to be careful in how they interacted, she refrained from making a quip. Though it didn't stop her from thinking one, far ahead of me on that one, professor, because I have no clue to what is going on. "Not a problem. Where do you want to talk?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her where she'd be most comfortable. Buffy could see the struggle on his face before the professor won over the wolf. "The study would be best. I don't think that anyone is in there."

"Lead the way," she gestured.

Again, there was that odd struggle before they walked to one of the doors and entered.

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"There you are, Snape. The Dark Lord has been wondering about your lack of appearances when he has summoned you to his meetings."

"Lucius," he coolly greeted. "He has? Or you have?"

That stopped his movements to the door and he stared at Severus, puzzled. "What are you up to?"

"I? I am up to nothing," he smoothly denied. "I believe that it is you who is often the conspirator in any of our schemes. I am nothing more than an accomplice."

"You are more than that," Lucius muttered darkly. "I'm just not sure what."

The clearing of a throat silenced the potions master. "Severus. Lucius. Please, come in. I have much to discuss with you both, though I am sure that your conversation is more interesting than anything I might have to say. I am, after all, only your Lord and Master," Voldemort drawled, his wand held lazily in his hand, as though it was of no consequence. "Why don't you share with us your thoughts?"

Bowing low before him, Severus smoothly made his apologies. It was, after all, expected of him. In his mind, he locked away all his memories-especially those in regards to Harry Potter. "Forgive me, my lord, for my negligence. Due to my spending time with the Gryffindors, the interesting conversation of a Slytherin drew my attention. I humbly beg your pardon for my error, though I know that I don't deserve it. And will suffer more having gained it."

"Pretty words," Voldemort mused softly, greatly amused by his words. There was a reason he tolerated Snape's subversive actions after all-and not all of it had to do with the stupid, interfering life debt owed to that one dead annoyance James Potter. Unfortunately, he'd been to quick to kill that man. Still, he hadn't quite lost Snape.

Plus, no one apologized to him quite like Severus Snape. The man was creative without going to far overboard into the realm of sheer idiocy. "But I shall forgive you both, though I am quite aware that your words are empty, Severus. Do not let such a thing happen again."

"Of course not," he waited for his dismissal, knowing that it wouldn't happen for a while.

"Remind me once again, Severus. What is the purpose of this trip?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore believes that it is long overdue that the Slytherins and Gryffindors learn to live peaceably together. That it is far past time to put aside old grudges and see the person beyond the house," he sneered on the words. There was no doubting his feelings that the idea was completely crazy. "So, he asked that I accompany Professor Lupin on this trip, to show that I bear no ill will towards the creature."

"Creature?"

"Werewolf, my lord," he replied. Glancing over to the side quickly, revealed one Peter Pettigrew, his eyes wide with fear. Inwardly, he smirked but his face showed none of that. "I thought that your most faithful would have told you that. They were friends at school," he idly pointed out, full well knowing that Pettigrew would be severely punished for having neglected to tell Voldemort about Lupin years ago. Really, he thought, there was no excuse for the man's neglect.

"Yes, I will have a word with him later. What of the redhead you were escorting around Diagon Alley?" he asked, somewhat idly.

Severus was far from fooled by it, though his answer sounded like he did not sense another reason behind his question. "An American witch, my lord, a Willow Rosenberg."

"And her bloodline?"

"None existent in our world," he replied calmly. This, at least, was the full and complete truth. Her power may have strong roots in Europe somewhere, but it was not in the English branch of the wizarding world. "I wanted to have the most accurate sources before I made any conclusive statements regarding her. Therefore, I introduced her to Dumbledore and Flitwick. They have found no significant connections."

"Any insignificant ones?" the blood red eyes narrowed and focused on him intently.

Shielding his face with his hair momentarily, he answered as nonchalantly as possible. His eyes stared straight into Voldemort's own, "Only if you are dense enough to count the rather chary tie to the rumored daughter of Merlyn as one."

Silence descended upon the room as everyone's heart stopped beating. That statement could be seen as incendiary, for it implied that the Dark Lord was nothing more than a gossipmonger. That he listened to rumors to come up with his facts.

A hiss escaped him and he stared at Severus. "Were it not for the fact that I know you are not stupid, I would have you killed for such a remark. Nevertheless, I cannot let such a comment go unpunished. You will stay behind and I will deal with you. Myself."

"Yes, my lord."

"Now, Lucius, you were able to arrange for your son to come visit me. Correct?"

"It had slipped my mind, my lord," the blonde had to admit.

"You disappoint me. It appears that I have not one, but two delinquents to deal with. Get out of my sight until I summon you."

Keeping care to not rise to high, they moved to the back of the room. For once, Severus felt a brief flash of pity for the older wizard. Lucius Malfoy had found himself in a most untenable position being caught between the Dark Lord and his wife.

He'd take the punishments the Dark Lord would mete out any day than anything Narcissa Black Malfoy would do. The woman was far colder-and far more powerful in her rage-than Voldemort could be.

"I'll see to it that Draco is to visit you for some reason," he murmured to Lucius, leaning in so they wouldn't be overheard. To talk over the Dark Lord's speaking was an offense punishable by an eternal torture that made you wish for death-that was denied. "An errand of some kind which will necessitate his spending the night. I'm always in need of potions ingredients of some kind or other."

Malfoy nodded, not bothering to thank him. He did not see the point. Severus owed it to him to help him out. The potions master owed it to them all.

Besides, he had other things to worry about, like Narcissa. She was going to kill him.

End, Part 9

Author's Note: Blaise is a girl even though it has been confirmed that Blaise is a male. I didn't want to create a character who may become a larger character in the story. I don't need an MS.