Author's Note: I want to apologise about the delay in uploading this chapter. The network I was using these last couple of weeks had the site blocked. I should be posting on a more regular basis now.

Chapter Three – Everybody's Fool

Without the mask, where will you hide?

Severus opened his eyes slowly, only to greet darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he took note of his surroundings. He was lying on a cot in some kind of underground room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of earth, and there was no light, other than a faint hint of it glowing from beyond a short tunnel ahead of him, making it difficult to see. He reached around for his wand, and unable to find it in his robes, he attempted to sit up. A sharp pain shot through his neck and shoulder, too intense to endure, and he fell back into unconsciousness.

Sometime later, he woke once more, with no idea how much time had passed. It could have been minutes or days, for all he knew. His mind felt clouded at first, but after a few minutes he began to remember. Then everything came rushing back to him at once—from Nagini's bite to seeing Lily again.

Lily . . .

A physical pain shot through his chest at the thought of her, but it was not only of heartache and longing . . . it was also of betrayal. At long last, Severus was able to see past her façade.

Lily had loved him once, he supposed. But it was not enough. He had loved her all his life. She had been the only good thing in his life, especially when times were difficult, even in memory. He'd conditioned himself to think of her whenever he felt he could not endure, and that had got him through all his suffering. But would she have done the same?

Of course not.

Severus thought about what Dumbledore had said, that some woman had 'called him' back. He supposed now that what she had really done was rescued him from the snake's venom and taken him to this place. It had been his choice whether or not to be saved, though. He didn't know whether or not he had made the right choice, and he didn't know who the woman was. But he was determined to find out.

With great difficulty, he pulled himself into a sitting position. The pain shot through him like fire, burning his veins. It was so great that he nearly passed out again, but he forced himself to stay conscious. Taking deep breaths, he extended an arm out to the side of his bed, feeling around for his wand. There was a table next to the cot, and on it there was a note. Next to it, he found his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered.

Light spilled into the room, blinding him momentarily. When his sight returned to him, he read the words left on the parchment.

I'm sorry that I had to leave you alone. I went out to get more supplies, and in the event that you wake before I return, please stay where you are. Not that you could really go anywhere, as I've placed enchantments here to prevent this . . . please don't try to break them. I put them there to keep you safe, not to restrain you. And besides, I don't suspect you'll be strong enough to go anywhere for awhile.

The battle is over, and Voldemort has been defeated, but things aren't entirely peaceful yet. Your name hasn't been cleared, so you need to stay hidden. In any case, nobody knows you're alive, and you need to heal before you can even attempt to get out of bed.

I know you're probably angry, and don't know who I am, but please trust that I have your best interests at heart. I'll be back soon.

Whoever had written the note had been right—he was angry. He didn't want to be held there without answers. He deserved more than that. But he was also tremendously curious about who in their right mind would rescue him, especially when apparently, his name hadn't been cleared, which meant that there had to be charges against him. Not that he could really blame whoever had accused him. He had been the Dark Lord's right hand man, after all. Only Potter knew the truth about that . . . if Potter was even still alive. What had Lily said about being summoned? Maybe she had gone to meet him in death, too.

Whatever the case, he couldn't do anything about his situation until he healed, and that infuriated him more than anything. Severus had never enjoyed idleness, and now was no exception.

Suddenly, a noise came from the end of the tunnel. He looked up. A woman with sleek blonde hair was walking toward him. Severus was oddly reminded of Lucius Malfoy.

"You're awake," said the woman. "It worked!" She smiled broadly, showing a mouth full of glistening white teeth.

Severus didn't know what he'd been expecting, but she was not it. Who was she and why did she call him back? He didn't even know her.

"What do you want with me?" he rasped.

"I just happened to have saved your life," she replied, with a tremble in her voice. "What I want is for you to rest and heal properly."

The mystery woman was carrying a satchel, and she began to take things out of it and set them on the bedside table. She put some bandages and potions in the drawer and placed a cake, a bowl and spoon, and a bottle of milk on top of it.

"Perhaps I would believe you if I knew who you were," he said.

She sighed. "I can't. You just have to trust me."

"I hardly think I should be expected to trust the woman who has taken me captive!" he attempted to shout, but it came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Please don't strain yourself like that. You need to let your throat heal." Her pale blue eyes pleaded with him, full of worry. "It's a miracle you can speak at all, and I don't think it would be wise for you to do much more of it until we can be sure it won't cause further damage."

He ignored her advice. "Who are you?" he reiterated.

"I'm no one," she replied. "You don't need to worry about that. Now please, stop talking."

"If you think I'm just going to lie back and be a good little patient, you're mad."

"Perhaps you're right about that," the woman said with a sad sort of smile, "But I'll do what it takes to make sure you heal properly."

"Why?" he implored. What on Earth could her motives be?

"Just because I will. I can't answer your questions. It's just . . . never mind."

Severus was not satisfied with her answer in the least, but it would do no good to push the question.

"How long have I been here?" he asked, deciding it was something she might actually answer.

"Three days," she replied. "I brought you here after you were left for dead. We've been here ever since, but I had to go out and find something to eat. I'm sorry I left you, but there was no other choice."

Severus brushed off her apologies. He didn't care that she'd given him some privacy. He was only upset that he hadn't been awake for most of it.

The woman began to cut the small cake into equal pieces and her cloak, which had been pushed behind her shoulders, fell down over her arm.

Severus was almost certain he'd seen that cloak before. As he thought about it, he remembered the night of the battle. "You were there, weren't you?" he said suddenly.

"Where?"

"You were in the Shrieking Shack. You came in after the Dark Lord left. I saw you."

"Oh. Er . . . yes. That was me," she answered.

Truthfully, he was a little surprised that she had answered him. But who else could it have been?

"Why didn't you try to save me then? You saw I was still conscious, and yet you let me lay there bleeding to death?"

"It wasn't that I didn't want to help you," she replied. "Don't you remember? Harry came in then—"

"You know Potter, then?" he said, cutting her off.

"Well of course I know him," she began, "I mean, who doesn't?"

He conceded that she had a point, but the fact that she referred to him so casually meant she had to know him on a personal level. When he didn't reply, she gave him a sympathetic look. "Harry came into the room with . . . his friends, and I got scared and hid. But I waited until they left and I still saved you, didn't I?"

Technically, yes, she did. Severus wondered if he would have seen Lily at all if she hadn't waited to save him. He was glad, then, even if he'd never admit it to anyone, but angry, too. Glad that he'd been able to see her once more, and that he'd been able to let go because of it, but the sting of losing her again was still there. He was going to be licking his wounds for quite some time.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you did it?" was his response. "Or who you are, or how you know me?" For the life of him, he couldn't remember ever seeing her before, and yet she knew his name and that he'd been dying in the Shrieking Shack three nights ago.

"I'm afraid not," she said, holding the bowl out to him. She'd put some of the cake and milk into it, forming a soft mush. "Now here, eat this. You haven't had anything in your system for the past three days except potions, and you need to build up your strength."

"You want me to eat?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Of course I want you to eat. I told you, you need to eat to—"

"Get better. I know," he said with a scowl. "It was a rhetorical question."

"Oh." She frowned.

"If you want me to eat, you'll answer some of my questions."

The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Fine," she said, practically gritting her teeth. "I'll do my best."

He wasn't completely satisfied, but at least he'd found a way to make her talk.

She cleared her throat. "What do you want to know? I still don't want to tell you my name, though, so try another question."

His response wasn't exactly what she was expecting.

"Why did you save me?" he said. "No one cares about me. I've made sure of that."

She looked at him sadly. "That's not true. I saved you because I care about you . . ."

"Why?" he said once more. "How do you know me?"

"You were my professor years ago," she replied. "I know you don't remember."

She was right, he didn't. Truthfully, he wasn't able to recall many of his students from the early days of his teaching career, especially those he only taught for one or two years, so her answer was plausible. She seemed to be about the right age.

He studied her features some more, trying to trigger any memories of her, but was unable to come up with anything. He wanted to ask her a few more questions, but his strength was waning. The woman noticed, and refused to answer any more until after he ate. She fed him herself, much to his chagrin.

After she forced some mashed cake down his throat, she disappeared for a few minutes. When she came back, she had candles with her that she'd enchanted to float, like the ones in the Great Hall. They were also enchanted to stay lit, keeping the dark tunnel basking in a warm glow.

"I'll remove them when you want to go to sleep," she said. "And I'll bring them back before you wake."

He nodded his thanks, feeling too weak to do much more. The conversation had worn him out, and the woman insisted he go to sleep. As she left, he kept his eyes open long enough to watch her go, even more perplexed than he'd been when he'd first met her.