Chapter 20

The Mission

As fall wore on and Halloween approached, Charity's homesickness grew. Perhaps it was the appearance of Muggle versions of witches and ghosts in storefront windows that did it. She often thought of the annual Halloween feast at Hogwarts and wondered what it would be like this year. Thinking of her own parents' hesitation to send their grown daughter back to the school, she supposed that many of the students' parents had likewise kept their children closer to home this year. It was sad and frustrating to think that the way of life she'd known was being destroyed bit by bit, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

One drizzly fall day, Charity came home from a particularly boring time at the museum. She'd spent the afternoon alone in the storeroom cataloging items that may never even make the museum display. She'd never expected, nor wanted, to learn so very much about the history of military camouflage. As usual, Charity's first glance upon entering her flat was towards Bnickel's cage as she called out, "Hullo, baby."

On this day the rabbit lay motionless in his cage. He was on his side with his all-white tummy facing her and his legs kicked out at an odd angle. Charity's heart sank deep into her gut before he stirred and stretched out his front paws, opening his little mouth into a comically fierce-looking yawn. Charity breathed a deep sigh of relief. She'd come to rely on the presence of this friendly puff of fur to get her through these lonely days.

Bnickel began his usual fidgeting inside his cage in anticipation of her taking him out to play. She picked him up and scolded him for giving her such a scare. She was actually scolding herself - she'd seen her bunny sleeping hundreds of times before and usually only cooed at how precious he looked. Why was she so quick to think the worst now?

The Halloween decorations faded away and were soon replaced by twinkling lights and garlands and cute little smiley elves in pointy hats. Charity laughed to herself when she wondered how keen Muggles would be to display more realistic depictions of elves all over their homes and shops.

Meanwhile, increasing evidence spread throughout England that Voldemort was gaining influence. Charity noticed more and more stories in the Muggle press about mysterious deaths that the Muggle police had trouble explaining. There couldn't possibly be that many gas leaks in the country. At least every other week a small bridge or tunnel inexplicably collapsed, injuring or killing several people. The Muggle Prime Minister was under fire for not allocating enough resources for upkeep of the country's infrastructure. He grew paler and more emaciated every time he appeared in public.

"All the money in the world won't save us from what's happening,"' Charity muttered darkly as she watched the newscasts.

In early December, Charity joined hundreds of others in Trafalgar Square for the lighting of the Norwegian Christmas tree and found the ceremony to be just as beautiful as she had remembered. She even joined in with the choir singing Christmas carols, lifting her worries for a bit. Charity expected her holidays to be tolerably cheerful as Bernie and Marta had invited her to spend Christmas Day with their families, and she'd volunteered to be a hostess at the museum's New Year's Eve Gala.

Three days before Christmas Eve, Charity was watching her new favorite television program when there was a 'pop' in the corner of the room. She turned her head toward the noise and saw Snape standing there.

He spotted her on the sofa, nodded his head, and said very formally, "Miss Burbage."

Charity said nothing but just stared at him, trying to absorb the fact that a man had suddenly appeared in her flat out of nowhere. She'd been in the Muggle world six months now and was no longer used to such things happening in daily life. Even amongst wizards it was considered very rude to apparate directly inside someone else's home. A courteous knock on the door was the norm, but these were not normal times, and Snape was not known for his courtesy.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking a bit concerned and taking a step toward her.

"Yes," she said, quickly shaking off her stupor and standing up as he approached. "Yes. It's just that after all these months alone…not used to visitors, you know."

There was a definite flame of sarcasm in her voice. The sight of Snape had suddenly awoken a resentment that Charity hadn't fully realized was there. Now that resentment welled up inside of her, and she felt ready to burst with it.

"Just me, left here to rot for all anyone cares. So nice of you to 'pop' in, though. CAN I MAKE YOU A SPOT OF tea?" Charity shouted. They stared at each other, both of them realizing that there was very little chance of tea.

"I suggest you calm down, Miss Burbage," Snape said in a provokingly calm tone. "I'm sure I needn't remind you that your current situation is a touch better than what it could have been – as snake excrement."

Knowing he was perfectly right on this point, Charity turned her anger in another direction. She forced her voice into a quavering calm and told him, "You know, I thought I saw you a while back." Snape's eyebrows went up with interest. "Yes, I went to the zoo and there you were in the cage marked 'Golden Eagle' with your great hooked beak and mean black eyes. I thought it really must be you when it started chewing on the head of a poor, defenseless creature."

Snape said nothing but stood silently, taking the abuse. Charity felt guilty when she caught a wounded look flash briefly in his dark eyes before being covered by ice. She tried to soften her offensive remarks by adding, "Ah, not to worry, I suppose we've all got our animal counterparts, like McGonagall and her cat."

"I suppose you would be a rabbit," Snape finally said, jerking his head towards Bnickel's cage. Was he purposely reminding her of his kind gesture in bringing her the bunny?

"Mmm, no. Bnickel is his own man," Charity answered. "I'm a bit more flighty. I'd be some kind of bird. Not an eagle!" she was quick to add. She shot Snape a spiteful look through narrowed eyes as she clarified, "I'm a little, happy bird!"

"So I see," he said dryly, rolling his eyes away from her.

With her anger somewhat vented, Charity took a deep breath and asked what she really wanted to know, "How is…everything? Are you and your friends any closer to taking over the world? I see you're doing quite a good job at terrifying the Muggles."

"I can't tell you anything," was his only answer. Then he said, "I need you to do something for me."

What could he possibly need her to do? Why would she possibly do it?

He must have expected this hesitation, because he suddenly gripped her forearms and peered into her eyes while he spoke quickly and earnestly in what seemed like a prepared speech, "I know I'm asking a lot of you, especially because I cannot give any explanation. You have every reason not to trust me, but I did save your life, and now I need you to trust me and do this one thing."

Charity was confused. How could he be asking her to trust him after everything? Why was she starting to feel like she wanted to trust him? She realized now that there had always been a small part of her that still believed he was good. The trouble was that there was a much bigger part of her that told her to steer clear of anything to do with Severus Snape.

Regardless, she saw that she didn't really have a choice in the matter. No one who cared about her knew where she was. As far as most of them were concerned she was already dead, so it would be a very little matter for Snape to kill her right now if she refused to help. Of course, he had made no such threat, but Charity reasoned that was bound to be the next step. So she agreed to help him.

Her mission was to take place on the day of Christmas Eve. Snape produced a package wrapped in brown paper that she was to take to the Underground station at Queensway. She was to discreetly place the package under one of the pillars in the station and then report the suspicious package to a Muggle security guard. That was the plan. Plus one last thing:

"You may see some familiar faces around the Queensway station that day. Avoid eye contact with anyone. You do not want them to recognize you." His eyes then flicked to her hair which had returned of its own accord to its naturally golden curls. It wasn't as long as it had been when she'd left Hogwarts but had grown longer than it was when Snape had last seen her. She prepared for a new styling, but Snape merely suggested, "Wear a hat."

Snape left the lumpy package with Charity and instructed her not to open it or handle it unnecessarily. All she could make out from her gentle examination was that it contained several hard, skinny, tube-like items. She was to tighten the package's stiff brown strings just before setting it down at the station. Initially, she chose the top of Bnickel's cage as a safe spot to store it for a few days. Bnickel was very curious and stood up on his strong hind legs, sniffing at it. When he started swiping at it with his tiny front paws, Charity decided it was time to move the package to her nightstand. All the while she worried about what was in there; Snape, of course, hadn't told her.

Charity was filled with apprehension on Christmas Eve as she caught the tube at Russell Square and rode the Underground to the Queensway station. What exactly was she on her way to do? She had thoughts of abandoning the mission. What if Snape was using her to commit some horrific crime on behalf of Voldemort? But surely there were loads of Death Eaters to do his bidding. Why would they need Charity?

Unless they were using her because she was expendable, and this was some kind of suicide mission. Would the package explode the moment she tightened the strings, taking down hundreds of Muggles along with herself? The late afternoon timing made sense; several businesses would be closing early so employees could get a start on the holidays.

A few things didn't make sense in this scenario: If she was carrying out a mission for Voldemort, wouldn't Snape have had to have told him who was doing it, revealing his own secret? Also, would Snape have gone through the trouble of saving Charity's life just to take it later? Unless that was precisely the reason he had saved her – so that he could use her for whatever this mission was. But then why would he have kept her a secret from Voldemort? Charity's thoughts went back and forth and back again all afternoon.

Even as she arrived at the Queensway station, she wasn't sure whether or not she was actually going to go through with the plan. She still had half an hour to think about it. After identifying the correct platform and the exact post where she was to place the package, she lugged her giant purse containing the mysterious cylindrical items up the stairs and out of the station so she could breathe in some fresh air. She hoped that would relieve the pressure building in her chest. A brisk wind blew, and she was glad to be wearing the woolen hat Snape had suggested.

She tried to divert her inner musings by keeping a lookout for any of those familiar faces Snape had warned her about. Would they be Death Eaters or would they be good wizards and witches that Voldemort would want killed in this public way? Well, she told herself, if they were Death Eaters then she'd know she was safe, because surely what's-his-face wouldn't want to blow up any of his followers. Unless these were followers that had betrayed him. So much for the diversion.

It was time to make her choice. She closed her eyes tightly, reached deep inside herself and found her answer - Snape had asked her to trust him so she would, possibly for the last time in her life. She said a quick but intense prayer then walked through the thickening press of bodies to the designated platform and post.

Charity nonchalantly pulled the package from her big purse, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and held her breath while she pulled the strings taught. A dull ticking noise sounded through the wrapping, but nothing else happened. Charity was so thrilled about not immediately exploding that she nearly forgot what she was supposed to do next. Recollecting herself, she set the package down and searched the platform for the security officer, spotting him about twenty feet down the platform. As she headed toward him, she spotted them in the crowd – familiar faces.

She recognized a tall blonde gentleman as someone from the Ministry who was often photographed along with other officials. Next to him was a small, dark-haired woman with crazy eyes, whom Charity felt certain must have been at the table that night with Voldemort, because an involuntary chill ran through her spine the moment she saw the woman full in the face. The couple reached the bottom of the stairs and then split up to head toward opposite ends of the platform. Charity sped up her pace to the security guard and reported the suspicious, ticking package to him. The guard was on his walkie immediately, and another guard quickly appeared next to the package, inspecting it. After a few moments he signaled the other officer, and both men blew whistles and announced to the crowd that the station was being evacuated.

More Underground personnel appeared and began an orderly evacuation. Charity peered through the crowd for the familiar faces and saw that the witch was very near the closest security guard. The witch was targeting the officer with a focused stare. Her lips moved as if reciting an incantation. It looked to Charity as if she was trying to confund the officer. From the dazed look that was beginning to creep onto his face, Charity could see that the spell was working. The officer started to raise his walkie, and it looked as if some invisible force was controlling his arm. Acting on instinct, Charity cut across the platform and forcefully knocked into the witch, who staggered and tripped. Charity gave another glance back to the officer, who had lowered the walkie and was again directing the crowd with clear eyes. Charity was relieved when the crazy-eyed witch soon became swept up into the crowd heading out of the station.

Charity kept her head down as she made her way out of the Underground, taking the staircase opposite the one into which the witch had disappeared. Once outside, she moved as far away from the station as fast as she could without regard as to where exactly she was heading. When her breathing began to slow and she was again able to focus on her surroundings, Charity found herself in the middle of Hyde Park.

She took a moment to catch her breath and felt the ground rumble under her feet from some sort of under ground disturbance. Had the package she left done that? While Charity stood frozen, she heard a collective gasp of astonishment emerge from the crowd gathered back by Queensway station. She turned toward the sound, and through the bare branches overhead, she saw a glittering mass hovering above the station. After squinting and moving to get a clearer view, she recognized the mass as the Dark Mark, the same skull and snake symbol that was engraved on Snape's arm.

The events since she had first set down the package had occurred in such rapidity that Charity didn't know what to make of it all. One thing was certain - the Death Eaters were becoming ever bolder. To think that they conjured the Dark Mark right in the midst of Muggle territory!

Charity was wary about re-entering the Underground in another station, so she continued across the park. She figured the cold walk would be a good opportunity to clear her head and try to sort out the details. As she made her way through the vast expanse of the park, an unexpected calm settled over her. The rolling, open space had put her in mind of the Hogwarts grounds, and she found comfort in the imagined image of a giant squid trolling around in the chilly depths of the Serpentine Lake.

Charity finally arrived in St. James Park just as dusk was setting in. She took a few minutes to rest on a bench there and think. It was getting colder as the sun went down, and she still hadn't made any progress at all in figuring out what exactly had happened back in the Underground. She realized that she needed to get in front of a television set; surely the Muggle news would not ignore something as spectacular as the enormous Dark Mark hovering over one of its Underground stations. She shuddered at the thought and became desperate to return to the safety of her flat. She decided to risk her life once more that day and climbed into the back of a London cab.

Charity remained glued to her small television set for the rest of Christmas Eve. Without the fake snow and tinsel decorating the television news room and the occasional heartwarming news piece, she would hardly have remembered that it was a holiday. When she had first snapped on the TV, she saw a reporter stationed live at the Queensway station.

"This is Molly Shankworth standing in front of Queensway Station, where just a short time ago, an entire platform exploded under mysterious circumstances. We are still awaiting information on exactly how many passengers were present in the station at that time. Moments after the explosion, a large firework appeared over the station in the shape of a skull with a giant serpent protruding from the mouth. The firework was of extremely high quality and it is assumed that someone with a great deal of experience with such materials was behind it. Police are currently investigating the incident but have reported no suspects as of yet."

Twenty minutes later there was a newsflash.

"We've just learned that not long before the explosion occurred, a passenger in the Queensway station had reported a suspicious package. As a precautionary measure, station security evacuated all platforms just prior to the explosion."

Soon afterwards, scrolling words at the bottom of the television screen read: False alarm saves hundreds.

Molly was back again on the late news with this report: "This afternoon at the Queensway station of the London Underground, a suspicious package was reported. The package, which turned out to be nothing more than a bag of carrots, nevertheless triggered an evacuation of the train station because of its suspicious nature. Normally a false alarm such as this would cause a great deal of irritation, but today that false alarm saved hundreds of lives. Just moments after the station had been cleared, it exploded in electrical charges that glowed green. The British Police are still investigating exactly what caused the electric works and how they may be related to the firework that appeared over the station moments later. This is Molly Shankworth reporting for the BBC."

Toward the end of the newscast the anchor broke in excitedly with BREAKING NEWS: "We've just been informed that the Prime Minister himself was on his way to the Queensway station just moments before the explosion, when he was stopped because of the investigation into the suspicious package. He was taking an unannounced ride on the Underground, ironically as publicity to prove that London's transportation system is perfectly safe despite unusual recent events. Police are still investigating the explosion and no suspects have been named as of yet; however, the list of those wishing to do the Prime Minister harm these days will likely be quite long. Needless to say, had he entered the Underground and been killed by the electrical surge, the entirety of the United Kingdom would be in uproar at this very moment."

Suddenly everything clicked - Snape knew of the plan to kill the Prime Minister and had used Charity to foil that plan. Setting aside for the moment the disturbing fact that an attempt on the Muggle Prime Minister meant Voldemort's quest for ultimate power was dangerously close to fruition, Charity was overtaken by her personal joy at this irrefutable proof that Snape was good.

"Severus is good! Severus is good!" she shouted out loud and then squealed and danced around her tiny flat with Bnickel in such a raucous celebration that she drew a pounding from the neighbor next door as well as the one below. Charity celebrated not only for herself, but also for the whole of the wizarding and Muggle worlds, because now she understood that there was a very talented and cunning insider working as a double agent for the good side. Severus Snape was working for the good side!

When Charity finally fell asleep in the very first hours of Christmas day, she was disturbed by dreams of the Death Eaters she'd seen in the Underground. They were dressed in dark, ominous cloaks and had snuck into her apartment to kidnap her and take her back to Voldemort. She woke with a start from her restless sleep when she sensed someone in the room with her. This time it wasn't a dream. There was a dark figure standing near her window.

She glanced over at Bnickel's hutch. The rabbit's wide, alert eyes were focused on the intruder. His long ears pricked, and he crouched as if ready to pounce. Charity clutched her blankets to her and struggled to sit up. As she did so, the figure took a step toward her, but before she could scream, she saw that it was Snape.

"Severus?...Severus!" she screamed and bounded out of bed to him. In one motion she was on him – legs around his waist, arms around his neck, kissing his face repeatedly, and saying in between kisses, "You're good! You're good!"

It is not possible that a man like Severus Snape could have been comfortable in such a position, yet he made no attempt to remove her. Charity even thought she felt his grip tighten around her waist. When her initial burst ended, Charity slowly let herself down to the ground and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her kitchenette. This was the best gift Father Christmas could have sent her.

"Let me make you some tea," Charity said breathlessly. "I've become quite good at it. Let's see we have…"

"I must go," Snape said flatly.

"What? No!" Charity said, wheeling around on him. "No."

"If I don't leave presently, I'll be missed. I've already stayed to long. I only came to make sure you were alright." Snape was firm in his words, but Charity could see that he didn't like saying them.

She moved closer to him, pleading with her shining eyes. "But I've only just gotten you back. Please don't leave me again," she begged as spontaneous tears began to well in her eyes.

Snape's eyes shifted in thought, and then he said, "Friday. Yes, the day after this. I can meet you in the evening – six o'clock."

"Friday," Charity repeated hopefully. "Yes, I'll wait for you here on Friday."

"Not here. I've been coming here too often; someone may become suspicious. Some place private, where we won't be seen."

Now it was Charity's turn to think. "How about the classical inscriptions section on the lower level of the British Museum?" she offered. "Nobody ever goes in there."

Snape thought about it before answering, "Yes. I'll meet you there. Friday, six in the evening. But you must promise me – no questions."

"No questions," Charity promised then lifted up on her tiptoes and gave Snape one last peck on the cheek before he turned and was gone.