14 Jan 1992, Tuesday

Snape yawned. He then glowered forbiddingly in case anyone at the breakfast table had seen that tiny weakness. Everyone at the staff table were busy with their morning repast, and the students below them at their tables were a pleasant hum of yawns, morning chatter, and the sounds of enjoying breakfast.

Picking up his coffee and sipping at the bitter, heated brew, he looked down at his table of Slytherins. Before slipping off to his bed last night he had taken care to write a letter to Lucius to inform him of his children's transgressions of that night. Since the mail had not arrived, Snape was curious to see if the owls would be bringing in two Howlers to go along with breakfast.

For the moment it appeared that the Silver Trio were a bit out of sorts. Hermione was ignoring her brother, and Draco did not seem inclined to speak to Harry. Harry, far from being injured by the rebuff, seemed quite content to ignore Draco, as well. Snape decided he would give the tempers the day to heal before he would deign to intervene.

Just as another yawn, reminding him of how little sleep the older wizard had collected last night, tried to escape and embarrass him, Snape clamped down upon it, and finished the last of his coffee. He then left the Great Hall before anyone could offer any pleasantries for the day.

There were no Howlers in the day's mail for the Malfoy children, and although Hermione still worried about hearing from her new parents, Draco seemed content to think that, other than his Head of House's ire, he had gotten off scot free.

As the Great Hall was emptying well fed students to their classrooms, the Silver Trio, still silent, also left and were preparing to turn towards their first class of the day when an ebony black cane with the silver head of a fearsome snake shot down as though from nowhere across the three of them. All three children looked up into the equally fearsome face of the cane's owner, Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius ignored his two first years, turning his attention to the dark haired child. "Harry, since I am certain your father has already dealt with you, I shan't delay your progress to classes." He moved his cane just enough to let Harry, on the end of the trio, go. Harry glanced back at his friends. Hermione nodded at him, and Draco swallowed sickly. Harry then ran off towards Charms.


While Snape prepared the classroom for the first class of the day, there came a polite knock on the doorframe of the door. Without looking up from the chalk board where he was double-checking the recipe written there, he ordered, "Come in, Lupin."

Remus smiled sadly and shook his head as he loped in. "By your use of my last name, I am guessing that I am in trouble, Severus."

"Indeed," drawled Snape. He then turned to the left, and glared at the Deputy Headmaster. "You told Harry about his father and Black being Animagi." Snape crossed his arms over his chest as the stick of chalk floated impatiently at his elbow.

Remus' smile faded abruptly. "What did he do?"

"You know of the detention he and his friends received for breaking curfew, and for violating my private lab," Snape stated. "What I did not add into my report to you was that they planned to steal Chameleon Skin for an Animagus Reveal Potion." The Deputy Headmaster's eyes widened. The Potions Master glowered tautly, "I asked you to use discretion in telling Harry tales, Lupin. He is an impressionable, little boy."

Remus nodded, leaning his shoulder against the wall. "When I told him about their Animagi, Severus, I had made it clear that it was exceptional magic that they were working with."

Snape frowned at the Deputy Headmaster. "Harry is fascinated by tales about James, Lupin. Did it never cross your mind that he might wish to be an Animagus simply because James was one?" Snape's voice was a condescending razor.

Remus glanced down at his feet. "I confess it did not, Severus. I had thought my warning was enough, but I see now it wasn't."

Snape waved at the impatient piece of chalk and it sailed over to the chalkboard to finish writing up the day's potion. He then went to his desk to make a few notations in his class journal.

After several seconds of quiet, Remus asked, "Stealing, Severus. Harry's been rather a good boy this year. Why, all of a sudden, would he try to steal something from you that he could possibly have asked you for?"

"They knew what they were doing was wrong," Snape replied simply. He then glanced up at the other wizard. "That and it seems Harry had been behaving so well because he feared that if he caused trouble I would not care for him anymore."

"That's ridiculous!" scoffed Remus.

"Of course it is, but Harry was raised by a dysfunctional family who continually confused him as to what was normal behaviors for a child his age." Snape leaned his hip against his desk. "Harry is a survivor, Remus. He watches people for clues on how he should act around them, and to learn from their body language if they mean him harm. He is rather good at blending in with a crowd so as to draw as little attention to himself as possible." Snape smirked. "He is curious, though, and I carefully curbed a tendency to sneak about, which could get him into an infinite amount of trouble. Trouble that Dumbledore would not hesitate to foster."

"Oh yes. James' cloak," Remus shook his head with a sigh. He really had had to agree with the Potions Master in not allowing Harry to even know of its existence, yet. James had been enough of a nuisance with the cloak as a kid. Harry wouldn't use the Invisibility Cloak for nefarious pranks, and sneaking around, but if he took it upon himself to hide, for any reason, Snape, and other adults, would be hard pressed to find him. Remus then asked, "So then, why the stealing? Why now?"

Again Snape's fingertip tapped his upper lip. "I am afraid that is an aspect I overlooked last night." A sudden, jaw-cracking yawn gave Remus the reason for Snape's usual attentiveness to have faltered. Snape glowered at the other wizard's silent chuckle. "Wait until you have begun raising your own pup, Lupin, and then show me how much sleep you manage!"

The werewolf chuckled, "I am sorry, Severus, but honestly, I don't think I've ever seen you yawn, much less admit to any failings we mere mortals possess." He bowed superciliously.

"I have a class arriving in five minutes," huffed Snape, "and unless you would like to be our test subject, you ought to leave."

Remus did leave, and as Snape finished his preparations for his first class of the day, his thoughts strayed to his son. Harry had been suitably repentant in regards to his behavior last night, but it certainly did not explain why he had done what he had done. The boy had sneaked into his private lab, when Snape knew Harry was much more stealthy than that. Quite frankly, if Harry had truly wanted the Chameleon Skin without his father's knowledge, he was a bit more canny than many expected. Snape had no doubt that he would have discovered the ingredient missing weeks ago, with, possibly, no clue as to who had taken it!


Lucius glared down at his two children; Hermione recently adopted out of the clutches of Muggle parents who were both neglectful, and dubious in their methods of interacting with their only child. It rankled knowing that Mrs. Granger was yet unrepentant, and Mr. Granger, free from prison, seemed blithely free of both his wife, and his child.

Taking a Muggleborn child into his home would have meant a death sentence not just from the Dark Lord, but from his father, too. Abraxas Malfoy, such a prejudiced, and staunch supporter of Lord Voldemort, would have thought nothing of hurting Hermione. It would not matter to the dead patriarch that Lucius had quickly fallen for the sweet, and intelligent girl. He could not love her more if she had been his own!

Thus, he took very seriously the infractions Snape had informed him of. He had not hesitated in leaving the manor that morning, upon receipt of the professor's letter, to deal with his children.

"Draco, you broke curfew, in order to steal a very expensive ingredient from Professor Snape's private lab," Lucius voice was perfunctory. Anyone hearing it would know it was best not to interrupt him. "Hermione, you are culpable because you intended to brew the Animagus potion. Without having thoroughly researched it."

"I could have brewed it," Hermione insisted. Draco let out a groan at his sister's unwise infraction.

Lucius' left eyebrow rose a fraction, smoothly. "Indeed? I've seen your grades in Potions, my girl, and although impressive, they hardly put you in the league of a Master at Potions." He began tapping the snake head of his cane rhythmically upon the desk in front of them.

Draco had stopped looking at his father, and kept his eyes on the cane. When he had been little, the tapping of the cane foretold of a meeting over his father's knee. The young eleven year old's eyes widened. Hadn't his father said he was too old for spankings?

"But, sir...!" Hermione clamped her mouth shut as her father's relaxed mien suddenly became like the warning grey of a Summer storm. She finally realised that she was quite a bit in trouble.


Minutes later, just before a bell announced the first class of the day, Lucius left the empty classroom with his son and daughter walking ahead of him. Both were doing their best to wipe surreptitiously at tears that reddened their eyes and caused nearly silent sniffles.

With a tap of his wand over the heads of the two children, a new door opened, revealing the interior of the Charms classroom. Flitwick smiled, and nodded to the aristocratic elder Malfoy.

"My apologies, Professor Flitwick," said Lucius with infinite grace in his voice. "I needed to speak to my children before class today. I hope they are not too late."

"Not at all, Mr. Malfoy!" the diminutive professor piped up. He watched as Draco and Hermione made their way to their friend, Harry. He stifled a smirk as each child sat upon the hard bench with care.

Lucius gave a nod, then a warning glare at Draco and Hermione, and for good measure, one at Harry, and then left the room silently. Titters from both Gryffindors and Slytherins flitted through the room. With a tap of his foot, the professor brought order back to the class, and began the lesson of the day.

"What happened?" whispered Harry to Draco.

Draco whispered mournfully back, "I'm sorry, Harry. For last night."

"Me too, Harry," whispered Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

Harry glanced worriedly at his friends who were each looking rather uncomfortable seated on the wooden bench on either side of him. "Did your dad...?" Harry asked, not knowing if he should be appalled at what punishment he guessed his friends had received. He never wanted his father to ever spank anyone, but Draco had explained at breakfast that morning that Lucius had used to spank Draco; a lot. Hermione had seemed a little worried at that thought, but Draco had reassured his sister that their father wasn't mean.

After several minutes, Harry decided that although his friends were not happy with the spanking they had so obviously received, all parents were different. He did have to make certain of one thing, though, and he hissed quietly to Draco, "Did your dad hug you?" Harry glanced to see if Hermione had heard the question. She simply smiled, and nodded, so she had heard. It heartened him that the girl wasn't angry, either.

Draco replied softly, "Yeah, Papa hugged us." He jostled Harry's elbow playfully. "Still loves us, even if we were sort of stupid."

Harry smiled at that, very much relieved.

"Misters Snape and Malfoy!" called out Professor Flitwick. "If you would pay attention, please?" And that was the end of it.


At the noon break for lunch that day, Snape forwent lunch and walked with Lucius down beneath the known dungeons towards Quirrell's cell. As they walked, they ignored the matter of the possessed man, and Snape inquired about Hermione and Draco.

"They were both rather fidgety in Potions," remarked Snape wryly.

"Indeed they should have been," nodded Lucius. "I will not tolerate a son of mine who thinks it is all right to steal, or a daughter who argues with her father." Both men were quiet for a moment as they both descended the spiral staircase into the depths of the Dungeons under the Dungeons. Leaning against the wall at the bottom to catch his breath, and to quell the dizziness, Lucius added, "As I spoke further with my children, Severus, I discovered that Harry had wished to stop their work on the Animagus study some time before the Christmas holidays."

"Was that the moment they decided they needed to commit a bit of robbery?" asked Snape.

"So it appears," confirmed Lucius. "Harry was interested in the study, but he kept resisting the apparent need to steal the Chameleon Skin."

Snape's eyebrow rose exponentially with his concern. He had not realised that Hermione and Draco had coerced his son into his actions of that night. Lucius nodded sharply as the Potions Master understood just what Hermione and Draco had done to their best friend.

"Were they aware of what they did?" asked Snape.

"As children, I believe they were acting impulsively about the whole thing. Eventually I will forgive them for the notion of stealing," Lucius intoned magnanimously with a smug glance of Aristocratic superciliousness. "However, I did scold them both for having taken advantage of young Harry's worry of losing them as friends if he did not comply."

"That scolding did not sit well, I expect," replied Snape with a frown, despite the humorous pun of his observance.

It was Lucius who chuckled slightly, and then nodded, "Indeed, it did not, Severus. Both of them were rightfully horrified when they realised just what they had done to Harry in their dogged pursuit of becoming Animagi."

Both wizards now stood just outside of Quirrell's' cell. Lucius had one last thing to say before addressing the problem before them. "Harry will be fine, Severus. It will take time, and patience, but he will be fine."

Snape's only reply was a curt nod of acknowledgment, and then they entered the cell.


As the elegant, and dignified Lucius Malfoy threw up in a conjured bucket just outside of Quirrell's cell in the Dungeons under the Dungeons, Snape held back the man's pale, satin-like hair. When it appeared there was nothing left in the older wizard's stomach beyond bile, Snape Vanished the bucket and its mess, and helped Lucius to his feet, and to sit upon the nearby bench nestled in a curved alcove.

Lucius' pale skin was grey, and slightly blotchy as he closed his eyes against the waning dizziness.

"I thought I'd seen every abomination the Dark Lord could perpetrate!" gasped Lucius as he clutched his belly. "Merlin! That face on the back of his head... what is that smell?"

Snape then handed the patrician a cool cloth. He sat beside his friend, and watched as Lucius mopped at his face. At Lucius' request Snape had shown the wizard the ravaged interior of Quirrell's mind. That, and the visage of Voldemort's face on the back of Quirrell's head even had Snape's own stomach wanting to rebel, and he was glad he had not had a thing to eat since coffee that morning at breakfast. "Putrefaction," he whispered as he leaned back on the bench allowing his back to rest against the moist chill of the stones of the dungeon. He closed his eyes, and regretted doing so as the images of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's mind flooded the surface of his own mind.

Upon entering the quiescent Quirrell's cell, Snape had explained to Lucius what the twins had told him about how their rune spells were not keeping Quirrell and the Fiend comatose, but they were giving Quirrell just enough strength to keep the evil creature's spirit suppressed.

"Are you certain you want to see what's in there, Lucius?" asked Snape.

"Of course I don't," snapped Lucius with a bit of nerves. He had been Legilimensed many times by the Dark Lord and it had been, to say the least, a thoroughly unpleasant experience. Lucius could truthfully claim that a Cruciatus Curse was easier to deal with than having that cruel Voldemort in your mind. "Unfortunately, if I'm going to work the right runic spells, I need some idea of what we're up against. So, let's just get this over with, Severus!"

Lucius had never been in another's mind except through memories in a Pensieve. Not only was it disturbing when he felt his own mind drawn into Quirrell's alongside Snape, he was immediately assaulted by bloodied, and tortured images of the inside of Quirrell's mind. He was only too glad that the Fiend could not be sensed, but what there was left of the stuttering teacher was both desperation, and terror. A surge of his indulgent breakfast early that morning had forced them both out of the wizard's mind. His eyes blinking with shock, Lucius looked down at Quirrell, and was further shocked by the face of Voldemort, eyes closed, but there. With a distinct lack of Malfoy dignity, the older wizard had stumbled from the room.

Snape removed a phial of Anti-Nausea Potion from his robes, and handed it over to his friend. He was breathing, slowly, and deeply through his nose to quell his mild nausea.

"What do you think, Lucius? Will we be able to help Quirrell at all?" asked Snape as he watched Lucius down the helpful potion.

"I've been only taking into consideration the man's mind, Severus," Lucius said as he also leaned his head back against the cool stone. "You gave me no warning about that thing on the back of his head. Has Madame Pomfrey seen it?"

"Yes. For a woman with such a staunch constitution as hers, I was not prepared for when she succumbed to a fit of the vapors at seeing it." Lucius smiled a bit wanly at the idea of the medi-witch fainting. Snape had probably been quite gentlemanly towards the lady. "Poppy fashioned a Healing Spell to slow the decay, but she cannot stop it entirely. If we do not use the Hourglass of Anubis soon, we shall lose Quirrell entirely."

Lucius straightened and glanced to the side at the darkened entrance of the cell. "Are either of those twins proficient in Runes?" the patrician seemed to ask out of the blue.

"Minerva told me that they both expressed an interest in Ancient Runes, but I do not believe either are taking the class. Bathsheba Babbling tends to have a fit at just the mere mention of the two." Snape smirked at the thought of the little, grey-haired witch that taught Ancient Runes. She was nearly as dotty as Sybil Trelawney was, but in a more endearing manner. "Why do you ask?"

"We're going to be Summoning a god, Severus," Lucius began a bit testily. "Even though the Hourglass will focus Anubis' attention on Quirrell, you, myself, and anyone else in that cell will be vulnerable. I'm going to need to put up, and inscribe more runes than what we're using to keep the Dark Lord in check. I almost wish..."

"Not Dumbledore!" snapped the younger man, standing abruptly. "If the Headmaster even suspected I had Quirrell down here, do you have any idea the trouble I would be in?"

"You must admit, though, Severus that Dumbledore is much better at the more obscure magics than I am," protested Lucius.

"I will admit nothing of the sort, Lucius!" Snape suddenly shouted. "Bloody Merlin! I have not made it a secret of Dumbledore's machinations last year, my friend. He is allowing himself to be controlled by that damned Prophecy, and he intends for my son to be a sacrifice for the wizarding world. I will not let that happen. I will destroy Voldemort, for good, and Dumbledore will not even know of it."

"Yes, yes, I've heard of all of that," Lucius said testily.

"Lucius, I believe you are merely uncertain of your skills," Snape's voice became suddenly placating. "Your Rune Magic is more trustworthy than anything Dumbledore might bring."

"Anubis, Severus," Lucius sighed.

Snape glared at the older man, refusing to mollycoddle him further. "It was you that told me about the Hourglass of Anubis, and it was you that donated a whole new wing to a museum you yourself have never visited in order to acquire it. Do not dare to tell me now that you are having doubts." Leaning over, he grasped the patrician by the upper arm and hauled him to his feet. "You can work on your calculations in my rooms," said Snape leading Lucius away from Quirrell's cell. "I have no doubt that the twins will be quite able in assisting you, so I will fetch them from class."

Lucius smirked at his friend, "You have such a persuasive personality, my friend."

Snape scowled as he strode ahead of Lucius. "Shut up, Lucy!" he snarled.

Lucius simply chuckled.


14 Jan 1992, Tuesday - End of the Day

Harry was bent over his desk in his father's quarters in a fair imitation of Snape at his correspondence. Harry had come for dinner, and had remained for the peace his father's quarters afforded him for homework. As for Snape, he was looking through the sheaf of runic calculations that Lucius had left for him. The Potions Master was rather surprised to discover that the Twins were more versed in Rune Magic than he had expected. Their scribbling, identical to each other's, was right alongside Lucius. In some places they had even presumed to make corrections. Corrections that Lucius accepted into the final formula for each ward and spell.

Putting down the papers, Snape realised that Quirrell's cell was going to be filled with inscribed runes. Three times what was already there. It worried him. There was going to be a great deal of magic cast, and Dumbledore, far from incompetent, would know of it. If, indeed, the Headmaster were in some way connected to the castle itself, Hogwarts might send Dumbledore down to the Dungeon beneath the Dungeons, and that could tip over everything.

Rubbing the heel of his hand against his forehead, Snape rolled up the calculations, rose from his chair, and put them away in his desk. Walking over to his bookshelf, he retrieved a book. On his way back to his chair, he stopped beside his son. Glancing down at the boy's work, he saw that the essay was for Transfiguration.

Snape placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Enough of that tonight, Harry." As the boy looked up curiously at his father, he showed the book in his hand to his son.

"The Jungle Book, Dad?" Harry frowned. His father's eyes looked very tired. "You okay?"

"I am fine, Harry," Snape spoke softly. "Would you mind if we just read together until bedtime?"

Harry nodded, smiled, and clambered up onto his father's lap. Snape let out an oof as his slim frame noticed that his son was finally putting on some weight. Slipping an arm around his son's waist, they both shifted so Harry slipped to his father's side, and was leaning into it. They were both now firmly ensconced, and comfortable as Snape flipped the book open with one hand. He began to read, his voice sonorous, and thrumming against Harry like distant tribal drums:

Now Rann the Kite brings home the night

That Mang the Bat sets free—

The herds are shut in byre and hut

For loosed till dawn are we.

This is the hour of pride and power,

Talon and tush and claw.

Oh, hear the call!—Good hunting all

That keep the Jungle Law!


18 Jan 1992, Saturday

It wasn't until the evening that Quirrell could finally be taken care of. In the morning Snape had monitored Lucius, Fred, and George Weasley as they inscribed, and incanted their runic spells. The walls, the ceiling, and even Quirrell himself were covered with runes. Wards were added to keep the Fiend trapped in the cell in case Anubis did not show up. There were spells of protection that were to divert the god's attention from all but the comatose body on the bed. Minor charms were in place to keep Quirrell still, and to help Madame Pomfrey monitor the man's vital signs.

In the afternoon, Lucius, and the twins ate a lunch that would put an army on foot to shame, and then they all fell asleep, sprawled all over Snape's furniture in his private quarters.

Lucius and the twins awoke in time for Little League Quidditch practise and the Silver Trio met with Professor Snape for detention. The essay had all ready been assigned and that is what the three worked on. They had access to a selection of books, and even a scroll, that all had information about the Animagus Reveal Potion.

Snape was tired but in addition to the detentions he had to oversee and preparations for this evening he could not sleep. Later, he was managing a brief rest in his quarters where Lucius and the twins had retreated right after Little League Practice. Just as his eyes closed heavily his Floo flared a tell-tale green. With a grimace he opened his eyes and turned swiftly to cast his strongest Disillusionment Spells on the three sleepers, and a subtle Muffliato that would keep them from waking at the arrival of his guest.

"Severus," smiled the Headmaster as he stepped into his Potions Master's quarters. His eyes twinkled as he felt the addition of spells meant to hide, and to silence. He gave no indication to the stern wizard before him that he suspected the scene in the living room was more than what he saw.

"Headmaster," Snape inclined his head in a gesture of respect he did not feel. All that morning he had the dreaded feeling that Dumbledore would be roused just by the wards they were setting, and the spells cast.

Dumbledore conjured his favourite chair before the fireplace, and Snape noted that the older wizard had deftly avoided sitting on either of the twins which had collapsed on his sofa, or Lucius who had fallen asleep in the chair that matched Snape's and was just to the Headmaster's right. With a shadowed scowl, Snape seated himself in his chair, his spine ramrod straight.

There was an awkward silence between the two men before Snape finally pushed matters. "Did you have a reason for this visit, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly causing Snape's features to pinch in irritation. "We have parted ways, it seems, Severus, and I find it disheartening."

"Parted ways, Headmaster? My first priority is Harry," he exclaimed under his breath. "Is he not your priority, as well?"

"Of course he is, my boy. I have always thought of Harry's regard, but it appears to me that what I consider best for him, is not what you consider best." Dumbledore sighed, glancing pointedly to his right.

"What I consider best for my son, Albus, is for him to grow up in a nurturing atmosphere where he is not going to be turned into a martyr for the cause," replied Snape stiffly, but with calm aplomb.

"And you wish to discount the Prophecy," declared the Headmaster gently.

"That Prophecy killed Lily and James!" spat Snape.

"It is a pity you didn't consider the consequences when you delivered it to Voldemort, my boy," stabbed the older wizard.

Snape shot to his feet, looming angrily over the Headmaster. "You have no right to raise up my sins before me as if you are my judge, old man! I know what I did, and I have confessed as much. Unlike you, though, I am doing everything I can to fix that mistake."

"Calm yourself, Severus," chided Dumbledore. He waited until Snape grudgingly re-seated himself, his lips thinned in anger. "Do you truly believe it in Harry's best interest to fight his battles for him?"

Snape's wand slid into his hand with a nervous twitch of his wrist. He gripped it tightly, but kept himself from raising it to the more powerful wizard who remained seated, a placid, righteous Buddha, who would smile serenely while everyone drowned at his benevolent behest. The vision so inflamed the Potions Master that he had to get back to his feet and stride away from the Headmaster on the far side of his living room.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, slowly, as if feeling his age. A wave of his hand banished the chair. He walked towards Snape, and to the Potions Master surprise, the older man laid the palm of his hand to the younger man's heart. Snape stiffened, and clutched his wand tighter.

"I have been aware of the magic being cast deep within the castle all this morning, Severus," his hand lightly patted the younger man's chest, before raising his gaze. There was no sign of the inimical twinkle. "I did not stop you because Hogwarts herself sensed the good in the ancient magic." He smiled then, and his hand stopped its movement. Snape was sure his heart was stopping as well. "Even if I wished to, I think Hogwarts would not let me interfere."

Before Snape could draw in the lightest of slow, relaxed breaths, Dumbledore touched his cheek with the dry, palm of his hand. There was still no twinkle, but now there was a hardness, a flicker of the older wizard's power that anyone rarely saw. Snape felt his spine turn to ice with a growing dread. "Your efforts will come to naught, my boy," Dumbledore predicted with finality. "And, Harry Potter will fulfill the prophecy."

The Headmaster moved away from Snape, and back towards the fireplace. With a slight twinkle to his eye, he looked to the chair where the invisible form of Lucius Malfoy still slept heavily. "Lucius always was quite remarkable with Rune Magic. A pity it will not be enough." With a chuckle, Dumbledore was quickly gone into the green flames of the Floo.

Snape remained frozen in place for several long seconds. A firm hand upon his shoulder brought him out of his stupor. Lucius, who had awakened when the Headmaster left through the Floo had ended the Disillusionment Spell, and the Silencing Spell. He had tried to get his friend's attention, but the younger man seemed rooted to the spot. Finally he laid his hand heavily upon Snape's shoulder. He was about to say the Potions Master's name a third time when Snape turned sharply, his blackened orbs burning with shock.

"He knows," Snape blurted. "Dumbledore. He knows what we are doing." Snape focused his gaze upon the older wizard's hard grey eyes. "The Headmaster felt the magic. He is not happy, but it appears that Hogwarts favours our actions, and will prevent Dumbledore from interfering." With a weary sigh he dropped into his chair, and stared angrily at the benign, orange flames in the fireplace. "Dumbledore believes that we will fail and that Harry is inextricably caught by that damned prophecy."

Lucius left eyebrow rose, and he crossed his arms loosely over his chest. "Ah. So then it is a good time to brood over the vagaries of a sherbet lemon addled Headmaster." Fred and George had awakened, and were watching the two wizards with curiosity.

"Your sarcasm is most annoying, Lucius," muttered Snape.

"Will it remove you from that chair?" asked Lucius with a crooked smile that was part amused smirk.

Snape did rise from his chair, and shot the older man a look of dark annoyance. "Let us finish this, then."

Snape led the way out of his quarters, and soon the quartet were down beneath the dungeons, ready to do battle.

Fred and George who had watched the exchange between the two older wizards looked to each other. Fred smiled, "We'll succeed, Forge."

"Most certainly, Gred," agreed Fred.


It was Saturday afternoon. The Silver Trio were not aware of the goings on deep beneath Hogwarts. Detention essays finished, homework finished they sat in the Slytherin common room watching the Mer-people swimming over the Mer city.

"I wish it weren't raining outside," sighed Draco.

Harry smiled smugly, "I bet it made for a very wet practice." The two boys laughed.

Hermione sitting between them nudged them both. "Aren't you glad we were nice and dry in detention?" she asked brightly.

Draco glowered. Harry frowned deeply. "Only you would get so much joy out of researching and writing an essay, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, and nodded. "Too true, Harry. I suppose Aunt Cissy…"

"Mother!" clipped Draco in a staccato reminder. "You're a Malfoy, 'Mione. She's not Aunt Cissy anymore she's mother!"

Hermione ignored her brother and stood up. "Let's go exploring!"

"The attics," grinned Draco. He scrambled to his feet and both sister and brother yanked Harry to his feet.

Half of the way through the Silver Trio's exploration they were high up in the castle in one of the many attics. The attics themselves were a labyrinth populated by helpful portraits that watched over the children as they played.

One attic had been haphazardly crammed with beautiful robes, dresses, uniforms, and more that spilled from a variety of wardrobes. The variety of clothing all came from a time in the Wizarding world gone by occupied the three for an hour. They dressed up as kings, and a queen, and when they tired of that, they trooped en masse to another room.

The next room was filled with hundreds of bottles, and jars, cabinets, and phials.

"This looks like stuff dad could use," commented Harry as he lifted one bottle that had a long, skinny neck, and a fat bowl.

Draco was examining what appeared to be a variety of Stirrers. "I wonder if Professor Snape knows about this stuff." He held up a long, copper Stirrer, and brandished it like a sword.

Harry's attention was caught by an array of blue glass that glittered against a rain-streaked window pane. "We should tell dad," he remarked. "It looks like everything is empty."

"Where's Hermione?" asked Draco as he stopped brandishing his Stirrer, and craned his head about his surroundings. "'Mione?" he called. There was no answer. He dropped the Stirrer, and stepped towards an ornate, red lacquer cabinet.

"'Mione! Where did you go?" asked Harry with a throaty shout.

Hermione's head popped up near the back of the attic room. Her brown eyes shown brightly. "There are Potions journals back here!" Just as quickly as her head appeared, so it vanished.

Harry giggled. Draco shook his head, "Leave it to 'Mione to find the books!" exclaimed Draco.

A sudden clap of what felt like localised thunder startled the children, including Hermione near the back of the room with a shelf of journals. After the initial clap of noise, there was a concert of babble before Harry's voice got all of them to look where he was pointing.

"It's a red bird!" he declared.

Hermione had left the journals and was now beside her brother. "That's a phoenix!" she breathed.

"Those are really rare," said Draco.

"Why is it here?" asked Harry.

"Ah! There you are, Fawkes." The Silver Trio turned their gazes from the phoenix to their Headmaster who now stood in the doorway they had entered. He smiled benignly at them, his eyes twinkling with relief. The old man's eyes tried to capture Harry's, but he ducked his head as he took a step back. "Harry, my dear boy. We have been looking for you this morning."

"We finished our homework, Headmaster," asserted Draco stepping protectively beside Harry.

"And did our detention with Professor Snape," amended Hermione. Draco nodded in agreement.

"Who was looking for me, sir?" asked Harry cautiously.

Dumbledore continued to smile, but the twinkle in his eyes dimmed, as he lied, "Your father, initially. After Severus came to me, I thought it best to send Fawkes, as he is good at finding lost students."

"But we're not lost, Professor Dumbledore," interrupted Draco. He was shocked by the quick glare the Headmaster aimed at him, before turning his attention back to Harry.

Harry was shaking his head at that moment, and blinking his eyes. He knew he had done well in not looking directly into the Headmaster's eyes, but he still felt that he had been drawn in by the older wizard as he spoke. He looked up just as Dumbledore resumed his carefully crafted words, "As I was saying, Harry, your father came to me for help in looking for you this afternoon. I am certain it is nothing earth-shattering, but Severus would like for you to meet with him down in the dungeons." Dumbledore smiled brightly, as the magic of his coercive voice wrapped around each of the students, thoroughly enmeshing them within its spell.

"Uhhhm, all right," agreed Harry slowly. "How do I know where my dad is, sir?"

The Headmaster turned his attention to Hermione. He smiled beguilingly. "Miss Granger, do you have that remarkable stone that you found some time ago with you?"

Hermione's hand swiftly clutched possessively at the Stone she always carried in her pocket. "How did you know...?"

"It's quite all right, dear girl," the Headmaster chuckled. "I saw you looking at it just recently in one of the corridors. I think if you look at it now, you'll find that it will lead you right to your professor."

Hermione clutched her pocket again, but then brought out the Stone. It had become a very pale, nearly translucent pink stone shot through with flecks of black. It was also singing. The girl smiled.

Harry, and Draco were mesmerised by the Stone, for they heard its faint song, too. None of the children acknowledged the Headmaster as they followed Hermione, and made their way down to the dungeons.


There was no set ritual to send the Fiend, Voldemort, to Anubis, the god of Death and Judgement. Yet, like a well crafted potion, Fred and George settled on either side of Quirrell's bed, on either side of the still insensate wizard.

Fred immediately sensed Quirrell's magic and sought out the wizard himself. He soon smiled, if wanly, triumphantly that he had found Quirrell within his mind and had a steady hold on the teacher.

George did not touch the darkness that was the Fiend, but he was aware of the malevolent energy. It was flitting nervously about like a cat whose tail had been trod upon. Shadows were settling under the boy's eyes, and Snape cast a worried glance at Lucius.

Lucius did not spare his friend, or the boys a glance. He was mumbling the spells to the wards to keep them strong. Should Anubis, if he appeared, refuse the Fiend, it would be Lucius' runic magic that would hopefully keep the Fiend in place.

Madame Pomfrey was in a corner of the cell. In front of her were the colourful diagnostic graphs that monitored the Weasley twins, and Professor Quirrell.

Snape stood at the foot of Quirrell's bed with the Hourglass of Anubis hovering in front of him. Beneath his breath he was chanting the ancient Egyptian words that would call forth Anubis from his Realm of the Dead to judge a wayward soul.

Madame Pomfrey glanced up from her spells as the air in the cell suddenly changed. It became heavier, as though laced with the dust of the ages. The oppressive incense of resin tickled her nose, and she stifled a sneeze so she would not disturb the wizards.

A breeze, hot, and cloying swept into the cell. Lucius stumbled in his chanting as all the runes in the room lifted from the walls, and from Quirrell. They spun lazily over Quirrell, changing from recognisable runes to the more ancient hieroglyphics. The hieroglyphics then settled, gently, upon the walls, and the comatose wizard. Lucius did not know if he should continue his chanting, and he was worried for Snape, and the twins. Just as he thought he ought to start, a distant chorus of voices, chanting in a long, dead language, filled the small cell.

The older wizard started as he felt a hand grip his. He breathed a sudden sigh of relief when he saw that it was Madame Pomfrey who held his hand. She whispered very softly into his ear, "I have a sense that you must sit with me, Lucius."

He nodded, and followed the medi-witch back to her corner.

Snape had not broken his recitation over the Hourglass of Anubis, and as far as Lucius and Poppy could tell, he was not aware of the changes in the cell. The warm breeze continued to swirl around the room, and Lucius had to remove his pale blue frock coat to ease the warmth he felt.

Then, several things happened at once.

The Fiend, the frightening apparition that was all that was left of Voldemort practically exploded from Quirrell's body. George fell backwards onto the floor in a dead faint, and Fred wavered sickeningly, but 'held' onto Quirrell's spirit.

Poppy screamed as the walls of the cell seemed to explode outward leaving them all in a much larger, more ancient chamber with colourful Egyptian bas-relief on the walls, and thick, round columns holding up the ceiling.

Snape's recitation of Egyptian words was abruptly cut off as the Fiend attacked him, wrapping around the Potions Master like a ghostly serpent.

Lucius was just leaping up to aid the younger wizard, when three children, wide-eyed, frightened, entered the strange, old chamber through the cell door.

Harry lunged for his father, and was violently thrown into one of the columns, where he struck the back of his head, and slid to the floor, boneless, and unconscious. Snape tried to call out to his son, but the Fiend was wrapping itself tighter about his throat, strangling any attempt he made to shout, or to breathe.

"DRACO! HERMIONE!" Lucius shouted to his children. "GET BACK!"

The odd wind chose that moment to whip up in the chamber, bringing with it desert sand, and dust that nearly obscured everything. Worst of all, though, was that it prevented Lucius from reaching his children, and Poppy from moving from her corner.

To Lucius' horror, Hermione stepped towards Voldemort holding forth a blood red stone. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her lips were trembling.

The Fiend coiled away from Snape where he dropped, breathing throatily, upraised on his side by his elbow. Somehow, Poppy had managed to crawl away from her corner, and was practically on her stomach approaching Snape.

"Harry!" he gasped through a painful throat.

Everything seemed to freeze with Hermione's high-pitched scream as the Fiend descended upon her. An appendage, somewhat like a hand, separated from the snake-like body, and snatched triumphantly at the stone. As Voldemort the Fiend held the red stone up like a trophy, the coils of its ghostly body were squeezing Hermione painfully. Draco shouted something at the Fiend, and he, too was thrown against a far wall, yet near his father.

Lucius, braced against the turmoil of the supernatural wind, and crawled to his fallen son. Draco was not unconscious, and upon seeing his father, he threw his arms around the wizard's neck. Lucius wrapped one arm around Draco, and murmured into the child's ear, as he watched, with horror, as Hermione slipped from the coils of the Fiendish serpent. Her body seemed boneless as she dropped to the floor, and Lucius cried out.

"My babe!"

Snape had fallen to his back, and watched in horror as Hermione fell like a rag doll to the floor. In all the furor, no one else saw George lifting himself from the floor where he had fainted. He stood straight, and tall, and as he moved smoothly towards Voldemort, an outline of a wraith of immense power, the god Anubis, shimmered around his body.

With not a word, the Philosopher's Stone slipped from the triumphant Fiend's fist and into George's. Voldemort screeched angrily. The eyes of Anubis beheld the Fiend, but Voldemort only saw a red-headed boy who had stolen his prize.

"Give me back the Stone, boy, or I shall crush you as I did the girl!" Voldemort threatened.

George's fist curled over the Stone, and with a burst of red, it crumbled to dust.

Over Voldemort's scream of anger, another voice, one that filled the ancient chamber, thundered through the bones of all present. "The Stone of Eternal Life was never yours. It belonged to me, and I have dealt with it."

The Fiend swam towards George, but found that the boy was inaccessible. An impenetrable force surrounded George; Anubis.

"You belong to me," the heavy timber of the voice made a sudden judgement, and this time, as the Fiend screamed; it was terror that sounded in the chamber.

The wind that had made it nearly impossible for anyone to move was now swirling like a small tornado around Voldemort. The faster it spun, the smaller it became, until the Fiend was gone. The wind seemed to slump towards the ground, spreading outward in a fine fog that became mist, and then vanished to nothing.

Lucius, freed from the force of that wind, rose unsteadily to his feet, since he still held Draco awkwardly in one arm. He stumbled over to Hermione, and fell to his knees, heedless of the sickening cracking sound they made on the sandstone floor. Unmindful of that pain, he let Draco slide to his side as he lifted Hermione into his arms. He cried out as her poor, broken bones shifted horribly within her skin. She did not breathe. Even as Lucius put his ear to his child's chest, Hermione's heart did not beat. Tears streamed down his face, and Draco, now on his knees, gripped his father's arm as he glanced fearfully at Hermione's unseeing gaze.

"Papa?" Draco asked so very softly.

"My babe…" Lucius mourned as he pulled Draco to himself with one arm. "My gentle Hermione…"

Snape was with Poppy with his own son in his arms. He was watching George, who was watching the grief stricken father.

"Please do not take her, L-lord Anubis," begged Snape with a hoarse throat. He coughed horribly just as George turned the unnatural gaze of the Egyptian god upon the wizard.

"She was in possession of what belonged to me," the hard voice of Anubis surrounded all of them.

"It possessed... her!" asserted Snape. "Hermione never knew what the Stone was! She never knew it belonged to anyone!"

"She is my innocent daughter!" Lucius was finally able to shout through his sobs; he still cradled Hermione's body against his chest. "Dumbledore did this to her!" Anger spat forth from the older wizard, and his glare was matched by one upon Draco's face.

"Dumbledore." Anubis voice rumbled through the chamber, and dust fell from the ceiling causing all of them to cough.

"You know the truth, Lord!" called Snape as he sat up on the floor with Poppy's help. "The Philosopher's Stone was created by Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore. It was Dumbledore who brought the Stone to Hogwarts. He wanted to..."

Snape was suddenly interrupted by a gentle voice no one had heard in quite some time. Quirrell was sitting up, his eyes clear, his stutter gone. "I felt the Dark Lord in me desiring the Stone, venerable Lord Anubis." He bowed his head. Fred smiled at the respectful obeisance his professor showed to the god. "We came to Hogwarts because we were following the Stone. We heard its song. The Headmaster knew what was within my mind before I even realised what I was harboring." Quirrell's head lowered in shame.

Snape's voice thundered sharply, "He endangered everyone in Hogwarts! All of the children! If you take her I will make certain that her death lies heavily on that man's old head!"

George swept over to Lucius, and Draco. He knelt down, and his hand hovered over Hermione's head. All was quiet as the boy possessed by the god looked over the child. After several long minutes, George shook his head, almost sadly.

The voice filled them all again, "The child is dead. I am unable to take the dead from the hands of my brother Osiris without equal payment." George lifted his head, and terrible, burning dark eyes looked to Lucius, then to Snape, as the voice declared darkly, "Osiris demands a death for a death. That is the only way she can be returned."

George crumpled slowly to the ground as the wind lifted up in the chamber, stirring the dust, and sand until no one could see anything. Then, as if it all suddenly drained away, they were returned to the small, cramped cell.

"A death for a death," echoed a far distant voice, the last words of Anubis. With that echo, the Hourglass of Anubis, which had been hovering over Quirrell's bed, exploded into a thousand splinters, causing those left in the tiny cell to cover themselves, and to protect themselves from the shards.


Albus Dumbledore sipped the tea that a house elf had brought. He had felt the surge of magic, and was content that Harry was on his way down to wherever his father was. He had discovered through the magic of Hogwarts that Quirrell had not escaped, as he had originally thought. The stuttering wizard was in the castle, but Hogwarts refused to reveal where the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was hidden.

All this the Headmaster had learned over the holidays. He was now also certain that Severus Snape no longer belonged to him. Severus was the one to hide Quirrell, which meant to him that the Potions Master had chosen his own path. Once the spirit of Voldemort was released in order for Harry to fulfill the Prophecy, Albus would do what was needed, and denounce his Head of Slytherin House to the Wizengamot.

The old wizard popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth. Perhaps, he thought idly, the Aurors will take Lucius Malfoy into Azkaban, as well.

Harry Potter.

The Headmaster smiled. With the Philosopher's Stone in Miss Granger's possession, he had been able to send Harry on his way to meet his destiny. Regardless of what Severus believed, the Prophecy would be fulfilled.

Albus took another, slow sip of his tea as a strange breeze of dry resin swept open the tower window. Putting down his tea, the Headmaster rose from his squashy chair, and over to the window. The breeze stirred his beard, and rose up his robes, and around to his chest just as a scattering of sand swept in through the window. A tendril of that sand brushed lightly against Dumbledore's cheek. In that moment, catching the casement, Albus' eyes widened as he felt his heart tighten in his chest. The sand circled around him, almost helping the elderly wizard back over to his desk chair.

Fawkes' wings beat in agitation, and then he sang. It was a trill of somber notes to ease his master.

A soft, yet distant, and thundering voice whispered in Albus' ear. "You have been judged, Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore. Osiris awaits."

Albus gasped just as Fawkes flew over to him. The bird's crested head stroked the old man's cheek just as his eyes fluttered closed.


Once he knew that Quirrell was all right, Fred went to his fallen brother. George grinned up at his twin. "Have any chocolate, Gred?"

Fred rummaged in his robe pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. "Here ya go, Forge."

On the other side of the room, Lucius was still holding the lifeless Hermione, and Draco, his fist still in his father's shirt, was trying to sniffle away his tears.

Snape, still feeling incredibly unsteady on his feet, forced his body to stand as he cradled his still unconscious son to his chest. He felt Poppy's arm slip around his waist as she moved her body expertly against his side so she could support him as they both walked/stumbled over to Lucius and his children.

Draco's fingers were lightly petting Hermione's right hand which trailed limply on the floor in front of the child's knees. Lucius was still holding onto Hermione's body as carefully, and as gently as he could. Silent tears fell down upon his cheeks and further darkened the dead girl's robes.

Snape was leaning towards his friend so Poppy helped the dark man down to his knees on the other side of Lucius. She caught Harry's head as it dropped away from his father's chest.

"Severus," she whispered into his ear gently, but firmly. "Give Harry to me." Her arms were already curling under the limp child's body. Snape was looking to Lucius, then Harry, but he was not relaxing his grip on his son. "Severus!" Poppy said a little sharper.

It was Fred who moved away from Quirrell that went to his Potions teacher, and forcefully removed Snape's arms so Madame Pomfrey could take the child. Poppy seated herself on the floor beside Snape and positioned Harry in her lap so she could run a much needed Diagnostic Spell over him.

Fred whispered softly to his teacher, sounding awfully grown-up, "Sir, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will take care of Harry just fine. I think Mr. Malfoy really needs you at the moment."

Snape stared at the red-haired boy that was leaning over him, and then glanced longingly at his son. Poppy was taking care of Harry, and as loathe as he was to turn away from his child, Lucius needed the strength of a friend. If only so that Draco would not become hysterical. He tried to stand, but his legs still felt like they had been hit by a Jelly-Legs Hex. Fred leaned down and helped his teacher to stand. In only a few seconds, they were both kneeling beside Lucius and his children.

Lucius' hand gently cupped Hermione's cheek, as he whispered to his friend. "I don't understand, Severus. She's innocent."

"I do not understand it, either, my friend," Snape spoke softly as he laid a hand upon Lucius' arm. "Come. We must leave. There is nothing we can do for..." Snape frowned. He could swear he just saw the girl's fingers twitch.

"Papa!" gasped Draco who was still petting the hand of Hermione's that had twitched. He tugged on his father's robes for the older wizard's attention. "Look!"

Lucius followed Snape, and Draco's gazes and saw Hermione's hand grasp convulsively. All of a sudden, she drew in a harsh breath, and let out a huge, single sob. "PAPA!" she cried out.

The elder Malfoy was in shock as Hermione threw her arms around her father's neck and continued to weep; her body convulsing with her sobs.

Stunned at Hermione's miraculous recovery Lucius gently slipped his arms around the girl's back. He expected to hear, to sense the disturbing sounds of crushed, and broken bones, but there were none.

"She's perfectly healthy," whispered Snape who had waved a Diagnostic Spell over the girl. He had seen the ethereal snake kill Hermione, and he was dazed by the results of his spell.

"Wicked!" murmured Fred, and he smiled as he heard his twin's voice next to him.

At Hermione's cry, Poppy had risen to her feet with Harry still in her arms. She had cast a Featherlight Charm so he was nearly weightless to her. As she approached Lucius and Hermione, she cast swift Diagnostic Charms on Lucius, Hermione, and Draco.

"Hermione is fine, and a bit in shock," began Poppy. "Draco, Lucius, you just need some rest. However, Harry's skull has a hairline fracture that I need to attend to. At once. Come!" The medi-witch ordered, and without another word she led everyone out of the small cell.


Fred and George both wanted to stay awake to find out how the youngest Snape was, but magical exhaustion took them both over, and a few minutes after arriving in the Infirmary, both Weasley boys were asleep.

Lucius had given in to emotional exhaustion, clutching both his children to his body. Draco and Hermione, both blissfully asleep, were using their father's chest as a pillow as they cuddled into his sides.

Snape felt just as magically, and emotionally exhausted, but his son still had not awakened from having been slammed into an old stone column. Poppy, who had done everything she possibly could to heal several bruises, and the fracture in the child's small skull, sat on the other side of his bed. She was feeling terribly useless.

"As soon as Harry wakens, Poppy, that old man is going to get an earful from me," growled Snape. "He put their lives in danger. Hermione," he shuddered. The Potions Master could not determine anything about her miraculous recovery, but her death, or near death, was Dumbledore's fault. "It is all his fault."

"Not entirely, Professor Snape," the quiet admonition came from Quirinus Quirrell who, for the last fifteen minutes, had been examining his head in the Infirmary mirror. Although bald, and apparently suffering from some scarring, his parasite was gone. He was now seated in a corner of the Infirmary, his eyes darting from the Malfoys to the Weasley twins, and then to small Harry. Harry, who to his eyes, seemed even smaller underneath the pristine white sheets, and bleached blanket.

Snape lifted his head, and glared at Quirrell. "I agree, Quirrell," he drawled hoarsely. "You are not entirely free from blame for you invited that aberration into your mind." He scowled sharply, not forgetting that the man's mind had been tortured by Voldemort.

"The greater iniquity is that of Albus," piped in Poppy. She brushed a hand over Harry's thin arm. "He knew what you were, Quirinus, and sought no way to help you. He brought that accursed Stone into a school full of children." She, too, had seen the horror that the Fiend had wreaked in Quirrell's mind. "Perhaps you now understand the monster you courted, Quirinus," she admonished.

Quirrell only nodded in shame. "It would be best, don't you think, that I leave Hogwarts?"

"Yes. Leave!" spat Severus. He wasn't sure if he was truly angry with Quirrell, but he still worried for his son, and he was angry with Dumbledore. He wanted nothing more to do with that old manipulator, and down in the depths of the dungeons as they slowly walked up to the Infirmary, he had made his decision to leave. Hogwarts held nothing for him, and Harry needed a place that could offer him much more than an education.

"Severus," chided Poppy softly.

Quirrell walked slowly over to Harry's bed. He was careful because he knew he wasn't welcome after Snape's anger towards him. Despite what had been done to save his soul. "Why were the children down there?" he asked gently.

Poppy shook her head. Snape shrugged and slipped Harry's limp fingers into his hand. "I can only surmise that it was Hermione's possession of the Philosopher's Stone that led them to the Dungeon below the Dungeons. But, what sent them on their way? Was it entirely the Stone?"

The Infirmary Floo whooshed, drawing everyone away from their speculations. Remus Lupin's head appeared. "Poppy! Come to the Headmaster's office! Immediately!"

It seemed like it was only moments after Poppy had left the Infirmary at the Deputy Headmaster's command when her own face whooshed into life in the green flames.

"Severus, cast a Waking Alarm over everyone, and please come to the Headmaster's office."

A trickle of foreboding chill slid down the Potions Master's spine at the plea in the medi-witch's voice. As Snape stood, he quickly eyed the peaceful face of Hermione Malfoy curled against her father's side, with his arm protectively around her as they both slept. He quickly cast the Wake Alarm Charm that would notify him if anyone woke while he was gone. He then threw the glittering, black powder into the flames, and called for the Headmaster's office.

Upon emerging through the Floo of the Headmaster's office, he found Remus standing impotently near the Headmaster's desk while Poppy was futilely utilising a Revive Spell upon Dumbledore. Her movements were frantic, and she looked up, worriedly at him.

"Poppy," Snape said softly as he walked over to her, and placed a hand over her wand hand. "Albus is gone." He shivered at the lingering smell of old resin, ancient dust, and the further tell of a scattering of sand beneath his boots.

The medi-witch's shoulders slumped as she turned into Snape, slipping her arms about his waist. He held her as her own dwindling energy, along with her grief, eroded the usually stoic, and business-like witch. He knew that as often as Dumbledore had vexed the woman, she had a touch of affection for the old man.

"Lupin?" Snape asked tersely.

Remus stepped forward. "Albus and I had some correspondence we needed to attend to at this time. When I came into the office..." He swallowed as a grimace crossed his features. "That sand. Severus, it was surrounding him." He paused as the Potions professor slid a boot over the offending sand. "When I called out Albus' name, it fell. I then went to Albus... there was nothing. It was as if, despite whatever that sand was, he had fallen asleep in the midst of having his tea."

Poppy pulled away from Snape, but remained close to his side as she wiped purposefully at her tears. "I need to call someone from St. Mungo's," she sighed. "The Ministry is going to want independent verification that Albus... that the Headmaster's death was natural." She stared down at the sand, then to Snape. Both of them knew that as natural as Dumbledore's death might appear to the authorities, it was not.

"A death for a death," murmured Snape so low that not even Remus' wolfish hearing could discern the phrase. He then nodded to Poppy before turning to the Deputy Headmaster. "You're acting Headmaster, Lupin," began Snape stoically. "I think you might want to contact the Board of Governors."

Remus nodded. "I will do that after Poppy summons someone from St. Mungo's. As soon as Albus' death is verified, I have to seal the office until a new Headmaster is appointed." He shook his head as he regarded the passed Dumbledore. "I won't be staying."

With that pronouncement, the three disbanded to their duties.


Updated 5/2015