Chapter Fourteen
November, 1976

Dear Severus,

Well, Mary's still being a right prat.

When your last letter arrived—thank you!—right there in front of everybody at breakfast she said, "Oh, is he still writing, then?" And I said, "Yes, of course, what do you expect?" And she said, "I expect you to have better sense than to go 'round with some Slytherin bigot, no matter how smart he's supposed to be!"

So then of course Potter perks up and says, "Oi, what's this about some big-nosed Slytherin?" And Mary laughs and says, "I said Slytherin bigot, but your way works too."

So anyway I hexed her and I got detention and McGonagall said I should set a better example as a Prefect and she forced me to apologise to Mary, who acted all high and mighty about it, like it was totally unprovoked and like she hasn't been sniping about my personal life for the last three weeks, like she's one to talk when she's been dating that Smith—not that there's anything wrong with Smith, he's just got the personality of a rather vigorously boiled cabbage. Which is fine, I guess, if you like that sort of thing.

Personally, I prefer the striking, darkly handsome, intelligent type.

39 days til Christmas hols…

Love,

Lily

Snape,

Don't think that just because you got Evans to call you her boyfriend means you've won. You haven't. You might have the title but I'm the one who sees her every day, remember. So while you're off poisoning guppies or whatever it is you do, who's right in Gryffindor with a shoulder to cry on when for some reason she thinks she misses you?

J.M. Potter

Severus, his protectively Charmed spectacles firmly in place, resisted the temptation to lean forward over his laboratory table as he, with Master Jigger beside him, stared, transfixed, at two groups of six beakers.

He looked at the group to the left. He looked at the group to the right. He glanced back over at Master Jigger, found the man looking back at him, and immediately looked back at the beakers.

At once, the solution in all twelve beakers turned an effervescent blue. His breath caught in his throat.

Even though he'd truly discovered this potion half a lifetime ago, the process of scientific research was still positively exhilarating.

"Congratulations, Mr Snape," Jigger said. "Your first batch of Mind-Opening Potion is toxic neither by itself nor when combined with Veritaserum."

Severus exhaled. "Excellent," he said. "That makes three trials of the Bank-Cartwright toxicity test. What's the next step?"

Under Master Rotislavic, the next step had been "force the Potion down the throat of a captured enemy of the Dark Lord." Severus rather assumed the process would differ at least slightly this time around.

Jigger, his expression as inscrutable as always, sat back from the table. "We'll need to apply for a testing permit from the International Board of Potioneers," he said, "and then, of course, acquire test subjects. Horace is generally able to provide a handful of of-age Hogwarts students eager for extra credit, but any others will most likely demand…compensation."

Severus rather shared Jigger's obvious disdain for paying the talentless for their only possible contributions to the alchemical world, but there was nothing for it. He nodded. "In addition to the standard group, we'll need a select group of subjects with a natural resistance to Veritaserum," he added, "as well as a selection of those with an imposed resistance."

Jigger frowned. "An astute observation, Mr Snape," he said. "And given that those who have taken the time to build up a resistance to Veritaserum are unlikely to wish to advertise that fact, I daresay we won't have volunteers publically lining up for that select group." Jigger drummed his fingers on the laboratory table. "We'll have to advertise in Knockturn Alley," he said. "It can't be helped. We'll have to compensate them more than the typical subjects and promise total anonymity. That means, of course," Jigger said, glancing up in Severus' direction, "that you'll need to apply for a research grant."

"I had so been looking forward to that," Severus said drily.

"I believe it was you, Mr Snape, who was so very eager to begin original research," Jigger said flatly. "Welcome to it."

There was a moment of silence, and then Severus said, cautiously, "And, ah, is the testing process the same for both applications of our Mind-Opening Potion?"

"I trust," Jigger said, "that you're referring to both the indirect application of interrogation through Veritaserum, and to the more…direct application?"

Severus nodded, and Jigger pressed his lips together. The two Occlumenses regarded one another. "I don't imagine," Jigger said, after a moment, "that we'll have any volunteers upon whom to test that particular application, as those who have taken the time to develop such skills are highly unlikely to allow themselves to be subjected to such a test."

"Ah," said Severus.

"And I dislike the idea of conducting that particular trial without, ah, full disclosure," said Jigger.

"Quite right," said Severus.

"It will do our records absolutely no good to test the effects of our Mind-Opening Potion on subjects whose skill—or lack thereof—in that arena is totally unknown to us," Jigger continued.

It wasn't quite "Vhen I curse zerr mouths open, you apply zee potion," but it was rather more Machiavellian than Severus had anticipated.

"Right," he said.

"Mr Snape," Jigger said gravely, "I believe I have a solution for our current predicament, but I must first have your acknowledgement that you recall the full non-disclosure agreement you signed when you embarked upon this apprenticeship."

Severus, his none-too-negligible curiosity piqued, nodded. "Of course, Master Jigger," he said.

"Very well," Jigger said. "Submit your application for a testing permit and research grant—for the primary purpose of our potion, mind you—to the International Board of Potioneers. I, meanwhile, will speak with my Ministry contact regarding the venue and subjects for our secondary test cycle."

"Yes, Master Jigger," Severus said.

"And, ah, Mr Snape," Jigger said, even as he began shuffling through a stack of parchment, "I should commend you on an excellently executed Bank-Cartwright test."

Severus blinked. "Thank you, sir."

Jigger jerked a hand in what was, Severus assumed, dismissal. "Yes, well."

Severus began dismantling the beakers, feeling almost as pleased as he was damnably curious.

Diagon Alley, Londres
Slug & Jigger's Apothecary

Conseil Internationale des Potioniers
CERM, Genève

Messieurs,

Je vous adresse ci-joints deux demandes:
-Demande 1.3a, d'autorisation d'analyse sur sujets humaines, et
-Demande 5.2π, de la subvention de recherche.
Aussi ci-joints sont les résultats des tests de la toxicité.

Je vous prie de bien vouloir me faire savoir, par retour d'hibou si possible, si mes demandes sont admises.

En vous remerciant à l'avance, je vous prie d'agréer l'expression de mes salutations distinguées.

S. Snape
Apprenti d'Arsenius Jigger, MP

Dear Lily,

I am sorry that I have caused a rift between you and Miss MacdDonald; please rest assured that was never my intention. My curiosity leads me to inquire as to whether your other friends share Miss MacdDonald's low opinion of your choice in suitors—does Miss McKinnon, for example, also believe you to be making a terrible mistake? (You may skip any description of the attitude of James Potter et al, as I am rather familiar with it.)

You may be amused to learn that Ms Cadogan persists in inquiring after my "redheaded lady friend," a moniker, I believe, that implies her tacit approval of our accord. Naturally I do not believe it to be possible for anyone to have any doubt as to your suitability for me; rather, I am continually surprised that anyone—present company, so to speak, included—might consider me suitable for you.

My research goes well, and Master Jigger and I are moving on to the final stage of testing.

Sincerely yours,

Severus

Potter:

I do wonder how you imagine Lily will react when I show her such a threatening missive.

S. Snape

Severus crossed his arms and stared down at Cadogan impassively. "And you expect me to silently go along with this proposition of yours?"

Cadogan scowled. "Fine," she said, uncharacteristically irritated. "Don't help me. After I switched days with you last month and everything."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me," he said. "Did I, perchance, indicate that I would not cover your extended lunch? No. Only that it would be remiss of me to allow you to escape this conversation unmocked. Quid pro quo, Ms Cadogan."

Cadogan visibly relaxed ever so slightly. "Ah," she said. "Right. Well."

Despite himself, Severus found himself sighing and asking, more seriously, "I trust all is well with you?"

"Oh sure, sure," Cadogan said. "I just have to go to Gringotts, and I'm afraid it'll take a little longer than half an hour."

"Really?" Severus asked mildly. "The goblins are nothing if not efficient."

"With all respect, Mr Snape, I fail to see how my visit to Gringotts is any of your business," Cadogan snapped, and Severus didn't have to be a Master Legilimens to see that she was extraordinarily nervous about something.

He did, however, have to be a Master Legilimens in order to gently push aside her mental barriers in order toand see the cause of her distress, which was exactly what he did.

"I apologise for the intrusion," Severus said smoothly, as he watched the image of Cadogan, in an obviously Muggle flat, gesture toward a copy of the Daily Prophet—he couldn't make out the headline, because Cadogan's memory focused on the phrase "of Muggle heritage"—and then write out careful instructions for how to get to a certain intersection on Charing Cross Road, which she handed to a sandy-haired young man who, Severus noted, wore a wedding ring that matched hers. His name was Gordon, and the night before they had—

Severus withdrew from Cadogan's memory.

In his physical present, Cadogan smoothed her short hair and said, "I'm sorry, it's quite all right. I shouldn't've snapped at you, especially when you're willing to help me."

"And I should not have pried," Severus said, marginally satisfied that Cadogan was not, in fact, planning to attempt to rob, or blackmail an employee of, Gringotts.

Cadogan flashed a small, forced smile and said, "Yes, well, thanks for your concern. If you'll excuse me, I'll dash off to my appointment." She pulled on her winter cloak and left the shop—exiting, Severus noted, to the left; towards the Leaky Cauldron, and not the bank.

Aside from Severus, the shop was otherwise empty—it was a late Wednesday morning, after all—so Severus did, as he was wont to do, the prudent thing: He lingered just inside the shop's front door and watched the street until Cadogan passed by, accompanied by the same sandy-haired man from her memory. Unlike in her memory, however, the man was now wearing wizard's robes, and seeming rather bemused about it.

The man was either Cadogan's Muggle husband, or a nudist wizard with whom she was conducting an illicit affair. Severus, on the grounds that a memory of a nudist paramour would have included more of a sense of illicitness—and rather less clothing—concluded that the sandy-haired man was, most likely, Mr Cadogan. Conclusion reached, Severus returned to the counter and awaited Ms Cadogan's return with the air of "minding his own business."

If he Conjured a pair of mirrors in the shop's front so that he could arrange to be outside cleaning the display windows when she and her presumed husband passed by on their way back to London proper, that was merely due to a desire to ensure the safety of his idiotic employee and her Muggle charge.

(What in blazes could have possessed her to bring a Muggle into Diagon Alley when she herself had been the victim of anti-Muggle harassment not two months before?)

So, when Severus saw the pair approaching, he stepped outside to spell the windows clean, and just so happened to step directly into their path. "Ah, forgive me, Ms Cadogan," he said. "I see you've finished with your errand?"

Cadogan, glaring, said, "Yes, almost—" as her husband glanced up at the shop's sign and said, "Oh, I say, is this where you work, Sherry?"

"Yes," Cadogan hissed through her teeth, "but let's get back to London, shall we?"

"Really, Sherry," Severus said. "Might not your companion enjoy a tour of your workplace?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No, actually—"

"Perhaps we should discuss the matter inside," Severus said pointedly, and Cadogan, glancing about nervously, nodded her acquiescence.

Severus pushed the shop's door open with a flick of his wand, and was relieved to see that Cadogan's husband did not betray his true nature by reacting in any unnatural way. Either Cadogan routinely used magic for mundane tasks at home, or she had impressed upon him the importance of blending in while they were in Diagon.

For whatever reason.

"So here's the source of that odd smell," Mr Cadogan said as they entered. "And here I thought you were coming home by way of the zoo every night." Glancing at Severus, the man hastily added, "But I'm sure that's normal for apothecaries. It's been a long time since I had to buy supplies for Potions class. You know."

Ms Cadogan looked pained. Severus extended one hand toward her husband and said, "My apologies, I don't believe we've been introduced. I am Severus Snape, Apprentice to Master Jigger."

"Yes, of course," the man said, shaking Severus' hand. "Gordon Graves. I'm Sherry's husband."

Severus had quite forgotten that Cadogan was not the woman's married name. "Ah, yes," he said to Graves. "The violist."

Graves, colouring slightly, nodded. Cadogan glanced back and forth between the two of them. Severus affected a smile. "What brings you to Diagon Alley, Mr Graves?"

Even as Cadogan opened her mouth to protest, Graves was shrugging and saying, "Just some bank business. Sherry's paranoid about some story in the Daily, ah, Oracle—do you know the one I mean?"

"I don't," Severus said. "Pray tell."

"Just that there was a witch in Brighton who died in hospital, and her family—who weren't, ah…" He glanced at Cadogan, who rolled her eyes.

"Mr Snape isn't an idiot, Gordon," she said. Turning to Severus, she said, "What my husband is attempting to explain is that the witch's Muggle family weren't able to access her Gringotts account—money that they needed to pay her St. Mungo's bill." She scowled. "The official line from Gringotts is that the Statute prevents them from allowing Muggles to inherit from wizards' accounts unless they've been officially added. So I had Gordon added to my account. Not," she added, eyes narrowed, "that it's any of your business."

"I did wonder what business could have possibly warranted risking the attention of those of a certain political persuasion," Severus said, "particularly given the events of this past September."

"What happened in September?" Graves said, and Cadogan threw up her hands.

"Saints preserve us," she said. "I'll just stand over here while you two divulge all of my private business to each other," she said.. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds perfect, actually," Graves said. "Mr Snape, you were saying?"

Severus glanced back at the laboratory door—he really needed to return to brewing, as they were quite low on Pepper-Up—but calculated that he had a few moments to spare yet. "How familiar are you with the current political climate in the Wizarding world?"

"Fairly," Graves said. "I'm aware that Muggle heritage or connections is becoming more and more adamantly regarded as anathema."

"Excellently put," Severus said. "To put it short, your wife was the victim of street harassment several weeks past. She was hit with a few mild hexes—nothing serious, but still cause for concern."

"Excuse me," Cadogan interjected, "but you do realise I am still standing here."

"Sherry, why didn't you tell me?" Graves said, frowning.

"Because it wasn't serious and I didn't want you to worry," Cadogan said. "Now come on, I've got to get you back to London. We both have to get back to work."

Graves remained standing where he was. "I'm worried now," he said. "Is it quite safe for you to work here?"

"Yes," Cadogan said shortly.

"There are other options," Graves said. "Even if you've not found an orchestra, we both know you can make a comfortable living teaching lessons."

"I hate children," Cadogan retorted. Severus silently awarded 10 points to Ravenclaw.

"Then you'll teach university students," Graves insisted. "But don't feel that you have to—"

"Darling," Cadogan interrupted, "we can discuss this at home."

Graves glanced back at Severus, who raised an eyebrow at him. "Ah," Graves said. "Yes. So sorry, Mr Snape."

"Not at all," Severus said drily. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Graves."

"Likewise," Graves said, and then, at last, he allowed himself to be led out of the shop and towards the Leaky Cauldron.

When she Cadogan returned, she silently took her place behind the counter, and when Severus opened his mouth to speak, she shook her head and said, "Thank you for covering my extended lunch."

"You're welcome, Ms Cadogan," Severus replied, and then he headed back down to the laboratory.

Conseil Internationale des Potioniers
CERM, Genève

Diagon Alley, London
Slug & Jigger's Apothecary

Mr Snape:

Enclosed, please find Applications 1.3a and 5.2π, the which have been both approved by the Board of Potioneers. Your grant of research, the sum of 250 Galleons International, will be delivered to Maître Jigger by a representative of Gringotts within the date of 29 November. We eagerly await the results of your trials.

We wish you, Apprentice Snape, the best of success in your current and future endeavours.

Régula Sylvestre, Secrétaire Générale
Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Magique

Dear Severus,

Marlene's a real friend—she says she trusts me to make the best decision, and we've left it at that. I think it helps that she's a bit older than Mary—not that I'm years more mature than Mary is, just that, Mary's an awfully young 16, and Marlene's almost 18 and is preparing for her NEWTs and everything…in any case, I've been spending a lot more time lately with Marlene and the other seventh-year Gryffindor girls. They're quite nice—I only regret that I'm only really getting to know most of them now that there's only half a year left to spend with them. How strange, that the girls I've shared a House with for over five years are mostly total strangers to me. I only know Marlene from Prefect meetings and the Slug Club. It's even worse with the years below mine—I can't name more than four students below fifth year. Is that terrible? Is there more camaraderie in Slytherin? I wonder if there might be.

In any case I'm so glad Marlene's around. Mary's still dreadful, and she's got Eleanor and Jeanie on her side, so it's a bit of a wash with my year. (There's the boys, of course, but…well. Remus is all right at least.)

"Redheaded lady friend," really! So how much do you two talk about me, exactly?

30 days til Christmas hols…

Love,

Your redheaded lady friend

Snape,

I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't send you any letter. Someone must have been mimicking my handwriting. And stationary.

Stop writing me.

J.M. Potter

P.S. If you're keeping letters to show Lily you should keep this one, it's only fair.

WANTED: TEST SUBJECTS FOR POTIONS TRIAL

Slug & Jigger's Apothecary, Diagon Alley. Subjects wanted for experimental potion testing. Participants will be compensated for their time. Contact Severus Snape, Slug & Jigger's.

WANTED: TEST SUBJECTS FOR POTIONS TRIAL

Reputable apothecary seeking subjects with resistance to Veritaserum for experimental potion testing. Anonymity and compensation are guaranteed. Contact S.S., Slug & Jigger's.

Severus escorted his second-to-last test subject of the evening up the laboratory stairs and to the front door of the empty shop. The young man, flushing a bright crimson, took Severus' proffered Galleons with a muttered, "Thanks," and skulked out the door, which Severus locked behind him.

Severus cast a quick Tempus; he had five minutes yet before his last subject was to arrive, so he brought his notes to the back of the shop, where Jigger was seated at the large, wooden desk.

Jigger, without looking up from his papers, asked, "Did the last two trials go as well as the first four?"

"The last one admitted his penchant for ladies' knickers, which he seemed none too happy about," Severus said drily.

Jigger glanced up. "The shame of a healthy sex drive stemming from a religious upbringing, or…?"

"His penchant for wearing ladies' knickers, I should have said," Severus clarified.

Jigger blinked. "I see," he said. "Did he say so explicitly?"

"Rather," Severus said, his lip curling slightly.

"Remarkable," Jigger said. "Excellent."

There was a rap on the front door; Severus returned to the front of the shop, where he opened the door to reveal none other than a much-younger, still-grubby Mundungus Fletcher.

"I'm 'ere for the potions test," Fletcher said, glancing over his shoulder.

"Mr Smith, I presume," Severus said drily, as he stepped aside for Fletcher to enter the shop.

"At your service," Fletcher said. "I'm, ah, here to be of service to the educational community, as it were."

"Your service is appreciated," Severus said.

"So, ah, that service, it's to be, well, compensated, yeah?" Fletcher continued, to Severus' total lack of surprise.

"You will receive your payment once the test has been completed," Severus replied evenly. "And only once the test has been completed."

"Right, right," Fletcher said. "Let's get on with it, then."

"Follow me," Severus instructed, "and do not touch anything."

"Of course, of course, of course," Fletcher said, and Severus led him downstairs to the laboratory, where he had set up two chairs in the corner. Fletcher sat down, and Severus took the opposite seat.

"Posh digs you've got here, yeah?" Fletcher commented. "How'd a kid like you end up with a fancy job like this?"

"I'll ask the questions, Mr Smith," Severus said. "In your letter, you claimed to have built a middling resistance to Veritaserum through repeated exposure, is that correct?"

"You said this was totally anonymous, yeah?" Fletcher said. When Severus nodded, Fletcher said, "Then, yeah, I've built up a bit of a resistance."

"Excellent," Severus said. "I have prepared a list of questions that I will ask you, both before and after once we have administered the potions. Please tell me if you object to answering any of these questions."

Severus handed the parchment to Fletcher, who looked it up and down quickly. "Seems all right to me, mate," he said.

"Very well," Severus said, taking his parchment back. "I will ask you to respond to these questions with untruthful answers, which I have prepared for you on this parchment." He handed Fletcher the second parchment; Fletcher glanced at it and snorted in amusement. Severus continued, "I am taking a record of this test with a Dicta-Quill, which I have set up on this laboratory table. Mr Smith, are you aware that you are being recorded?"

Fletcher frowned. "Ah, yeah, you just said—"

"Thank you," Severus interrupted, having no desire to entertain more dialogue with the lout than necessary. "Please, tell me your name."

"Ah, John Smith."

"And are you submitting to this test voluntarily?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Thank you," Severus said again. "I will now ask you the questions that you have agreed to answer. If you would, please respond with the answers that I have provided."

"Ready," Fletcher said, flexing his fingers and grinning in what was, Severus assumed, meant to be a winning fashion.

"When were you born?" Severus asked.

"May 2, 1825," Fletcher read obligingly.

"What is, or was, your mother's first name?" Severus continued.

"Thomas," Fletcher read, smirking.

"Are you enjoying this examination?" Severus asked.

"It's better than a four-course meal," Fletcher read, scepticism clear in his face.

"And are you, in fact, Supreme Mugwump?" Severus continued.

"I am Supreme Mugwump," Fletcher said. He glanced up from the sheet. "This is kinda ridiculous, innit?" he said.

"Indeed," Severus allowed. Addressing his voice toward the Dicta-Quill on the table, he continued, "I will now administer the standard three-drop dose of Veritaserum, against which you have claim to have built a resistance." Fletcher shrugged, and Severus stood up, took the bottle of Veritaserum out of his pocket, and placed three drops of the serum on Fletcher's waiting tongue. Severus returned to his seat.

"Are you ready to repeat the questions?" Severus asked.

"Yes," Fletcher responded immediately, and he looked slightly irritated with himself.

"When were you born?" Severus asked again.

Fletcher was silent for a moment, and then he forced out, "May 2, eighteen twenty—forty—twenty-five."

"What is, or was, your mother's first name?" Severus asked.

Fletcher swallowed and said, distinctly, "Thomas."

"Are you enjoying this examination?" Severus continued.

"'Sallright," Fletcher said immediately, and then hastily added, "It's better than a four-course meal."

"And are you, in fact, Supreme Mugwump?" Severus asked.

"I am—not, no—yes. I am Supreme Mugwump," Fletcher confirmed. He wiped away the sweat that had gathered on his brow and said, "CrikeyBlimey, kid, this is harder than I thought."

"Indeed," Severus said drily. "I will now administer three drops of Jigger and Snape's Mind-Opening Potion, which, as you have been made aware, is still in experimental stages."

"Yeah, yeah," Fletcher said, and stuck out his tongue. Severus obligingly stood, placed three drops of the potion on Fletcher's tongue, and resumed his seat.

"Are you ready to repeat the questions?" Severus asked.

"Oh, sure, why not eh?" Fletcher responded easily.

Severus, pleased, posed the first question. "When were you born?"

"August 13, 1946," Fletcher said immediately.

"And what is, or was, your mother's first name?" Severus asked.

"Iphigenia, but she went by Effy," Fletcher said, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Are you enjoying this examination?" Severus continued.

"I've done far worse for a Galleon," Fletcher said, cringing.

"And are you, in fact, Supreme Mugwump?" Severus asked.

"Cor, no, what do you think, eh?" Fletcher said, and then he slouched back in his chair. "What the bloody hell did you give me?" he demanded.

"A Mind-Opening Potion," Severus said. "It's meant to increase susceptibility to Veritaserum."

"Well it bloody worked," Fletcher said. "Veritaserum just makes you say the correct answer, you know. It doesn't make you keep talking and adding a bunch of details like—"

"Yes, thank you, Mr Smith," Severus interrupted. "If you don't have any further questions, we can proceed back upstairs."

"Could I get away with stealing anything from here?" Fletcher asked—and, immediately, clapped a hand over his mouth.

"No," Severus said flatly. "Upstairs. And might I recommend that you go straight home and speak to no one for the next two hours."

"Yeah," Fletcher agreed. "Probably a good idea. Especially if there's Aurors out. Blimey."

"You should be quiet, Mr Smith," Severus suggested.

"Right," said Fletcher, and Severus led him back up the stairs. At the front of the shop, Severus handed Fletcher the agreed-upon compensation—an outrageous five Galleons—and bid him good nightevening.

"It will be if I can convince Sarah to come up for the night," Fletcher said as he exited, adding, "Damn it all."

Rolling his eyes, Severus shut and locked the door.

"Was that the last one?" Jigger asked from the back of the room.

"Yes," Severus confirmed, walking towards him. "He had a mild resistance to Veritaserum, and, like the others, our potion was still more than effective. I'll compile the notes for you by morning."

"Excellent," Jigger commented. "Then we can begin our second phase of testing next week. I've secured permission from the Ministry."

"Permission, sir?" Severus repeated.

"Yes," Jigger said, frowning. "As I said." He held up a parchment; Severus took it, his eyes skimming the text rapidly, and read:

Arsenius—

Yes, by all means. I've attached a list of the prisoners suitable for this trial of yours—as you requested, I've noted which are known to have employed Occlumency. I've also taken the liberty of enclosing a list of questions for each—I can't tell you how much it would aid several ongoing investigations if we had the answers to these questions.

If the guards give you any trouble, Floo me straight away.

Regards,

Bartemius Crouch
Head, Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Severus glanced up from the text. "Sir?" he said, when no further eloquence occurred to him.

Jigger nodded. "We'll head to Azkaban Tuesday next," he said. "I trust your Patronus is up to standard."

Severus' throat went dry. "It is," he confirmed.

"Good," Jigger said. "Then we'll have no problems."

"None at all," Severus agreed.

A/N: On the subject of the previous chapter's reviews, Severus would like to say, "I am not, nor have I ever been, 'cute.'" I, however, have adored every single review that has come in. Thank you for your feedback and criticism, which make me a better writer and a happier person.

In the next chapter-which I will post by March 1-Azkaban and the possibility of the Slug Club Christmas party.