A/N #1 Thanks to EP/MM. This chapter didn't behave at all.
A/N # 2 for Ellie, who didn't leave a contact email. (Don't you want to hear from me? I'm getting a complex from your reviews. :))
Wait did Byakko, great, unseen assassin just spend the better part of the night talking to his target in a buzy bar (glamoured? who knows) and kill him with a knife in such a way as to give him time to face his murder and maybe take a swing (okay, so Tobias didn't but he bloody well could have) while still in the bar and leave a slumped over corpse in the bar? For an honourable professional that smells of arrogance and sloppiness to me.
NotWillingtoAdmit's Answer
Err WRONG! Tobias was killed using a candlestick by Byakko and Damyan in parlour...err.. Torrs Riverside Park in New Mills. The boys had a couple quick drinks and decided to go for a stroll. One knife wound to the chest and then he was thrown over the guardrail into the river, as they didn't have a flight of steps to throw him down (like he did to Eileen). NO magic involved so if Albus decides to investigate (which he probably will as he's a nosey old codger), there will not be the faintest whiff of magic involved. And it probably took all of thirty minutes. :)
Since it's been a while, a brief synopsis might be helpful: We left Eileen Prince dying, Tobias Snape dead. Problems at Gellert's prison, Minerva in the infirmary and a dead Bellatrix LeStrange.
Oxana put her hand on Severus' left hand. They were in the sitting room, and Severus was anxiously watching a flickering candle. Compulsively, obsessively, he rubbed his stomach with his free hand.
"Please, be soon," whispered Severus.
The door to the room opened and Sasha quietly entered. An unhappy Oxana noticed that his green eyes were bright and feral. From hard earned experience, the witch knew that a fey Sasha was a very bad thing. Byakko and he had disappeared for a short time earlier in the evening which was long enough for them to get into some serious trouble. Sasha sat next to Severus and the older mage deliberately put his arm around Severus to comfort him.
What have you done? she thought.
The candle that represented Eileen continued to flicker and dance until at last, it was extinguished. The lad said not a word, instead he stared straight ahead, his free hand still on his belly.
"I want you to drink this," Sasha ordered. He held a small phial in his hand.
Severus ignored him as he was still staring straight ahead and Sasha uncapped the phial with a practiced flip from his thumb.
"Drink it," repeated Sasha. The wizard placed the small bottle against Severus' lips and the younger mage dutifully swallowed it. "Good. Now, let's get you to bed."
"She liked… flowers…" confessed a remote Severus. "I hope Minerva will ensure that she has some…"
"You can do better than that, we can pick some from our garden, Severus," Oxana offered. Deliberately, she ignored Sasha's unspoken, 'Are you daft, witch?' "
"You need to rest, Severus," Sasha stated.
Severus nodded his head in weary agreement and Sasha helped him to bed. He was placed just so, and he was propped with pillows until he was comfortable. Sasha sat down in a chair and he removed his dragon hide boots. Carefully, he polished them until they shone. They had been a present from Gellert, and they were broken in and quite comfortable.
"He's asleep," Sasha assured the witch.
"You're wearing your dragonhide armor, Damyan." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes. I think you should wear yours also. Before our goddaughter is born, I need to ensure that Severus is safe. Byakko and I took care of part of it tonight." He sat back in the chair and easily smiled.
You only smile like that after you have killed someone, Damyan.
"May I ask who it was?" she asked.
"His father," Sasha tersely admitted. "Severus won't have to worry about Tobias Snape ever again."
"His mother and his father tonight? And Prague also. Busy, weren't we? Did you decide to maybe get rid of …" The witch stopped, leery of angering Damyan when he was experiencing a killing-induced euphoria, but damn it, she needed to know. While Damyan had Bonded her into acquiescence many decades ago, there was still a part of the witch that remained a Russian Auror still. She mitigated Damnyan's excesses as she much as she dared and now was such a time. "The explosives…. Please assure me that you didn't blow up Hogwarts, did you?"
Damyan looked sincerely surprised at Oxana's question.
"Come now, even I would think twice about killing four hundred children, Katya," the Bulgarian warlock chastised. "I do possess a conscience; I just don't listen to it very often. Severus would be well rid of many of them but he does have a few close acquaintances on the faculty. That Minerva woman, Slughorn who taught him potions and… that Goblin mage."
His easy smile disappeared.
"If I can avoid hurting them, I will. Yet the Greater Good is a harsh mistress, my dear," the Dark Wizard informed her. "I fear Minerva might have been injured in Prague, but she wasn't supposed to be there and well… if the Goblin was just a smidgeon or three taller, he wouldn't haven't nearly drowned in the pond. Sloppy Charm Work, the wards should have bounced him someplace else. They had thought Albus would arrive at the hospice, not Flitwick so they assumed it was safe to drop him into the pond."
"Were the events in Prague part of making the world a safer place for Severus?" questioned Oxana. "Did the Greater Good demand it?"
"Yes." The Dark Wizard's simple agreement deeply disturbed the witch.
"Oh bloody, bloody hell," she whispered.
"What happened in Prague?" Filius asked Albus. The two wizards were in Albus' office and having bit of a tipple after finalizing Eileen Snape's funeral arrangements. Their plans were subject to a still sleeping Minerva McGonagall's veto, as Filius and Albus were prone to excess.
"I received information that Severus was to be there," Albus explained. "It seems to have been an ambush."
"What was the tip off? The exploding clock?" Filius growled. "My apologies, that comment was completely unwarranted. It's been a rather eventful few hours, Albus. Prague, Eileen, Minerva and Arthur in the infirmary, my near drowning."
"Remus is at the door," Albus announced. "Come in!"
The werewolf came into Dumbledore's office and apologized. "Albus, I know you didn't wish to be disturbed, but there are Bulgarian Aurors from Nurmengard …"
"Nurmengard?" Albus interrupted.
"Yes, Nurmengard, and they're on the front steps of Hogwarts. There was an incident in Nurmengard, and they wish to speak to you." Remus paused and then continued. "A Japanese mage went mad last night. He stormed into Nurmengard, screaming that he was Imperio'd by a Death Eater and he murdered one of Gellert's guards."
"A Japanese mage? By any chance, was it Ishikawa Byakko?" Albus questioned. He knew the answer, but still he had to ask.
"Ishikawa Byakko? Isn't he a special envoy or some such position with the International Confederation of Wizards?" Filius questioned.
"He was," Remus stressed. "He's quite dead now. After killing the guard who was supposedly a Death Eater and he then committed suicide by ritually disemboweling himself. I believe he died muttering something about shame, dishonor, death. There is a large contingency from the International Confederation of Wizards waiting for you also. Seems the death of this Byakko fellow has deeply shaken the ICW."
"I don't know any spell for disemboweling," Filius admitted, as he was first and foremost an academic. "Anyone catch what he said?"
"It was quite messy and several of the guards were too busy tossing their tea to catch the correct articulation. Speaking of messes, you may wish to hurry, as there's a group of Japanese mages who were queuing up. We're running out of space at the Gate."
"Why are they here?" questioned Filius.
"The Nurmengard prisoner is loudly proclaiming that he was Imperio'd and forced to write something to Albus regarding Prague. The Japanese investigators decided it was necessary to speak with Albus. Speaking of which, we've also Aurors from Bohemia demanding an audience regarding the destruction of a historical, astrological clock?" Remus appeared confused. "They're willing to wait until after you speak to the Japanese contingency."
"Let me talk to them," Albus announced. "Put them all in separate rooms and I'll speak to them one at a time. The Bulgarians first…"
"Well, the British Aurors may want that to be first," Remus inserted. "They're claiming rank."
"Remus John Lupin, I truly believe that you are enjoying this a bit too much," Albus announced. "Why are the British Aurors here?"
"They found the body of Tobias Snape in the River Goyt early this morning. He was stabbed once in the chest. With Eileen dying last night also, they want your input on whether or not Severus Snape is involved with their deaths," explained the werewolf.
"Very well, Bulgaria, England, ICW, Japanese and then Bohemia…" Albus said. "Is there any other nation that wishes to speak to me? Perhaps the Colonies? They've been remarkably quiet these past few months."
"Molly," Filius inserted. He ignored Albus' look of betrayal. "She was willing to wait until after we settled Eileen's arrangements, but she wants to know why Arthur was in Prague. Minerva is still unconscious; Aberforth is claiming that Minerva didn't inform him why he needed to be there, just to be there…"
Albus refrained from commenting on his belief that Aberforth had deliberately thrown him under the Hogwarts Express.
"Molly first," Albus decided. "Then Bulgaria…. Have them all in separate rooms and please ask the House Elves to serve them tea."
Alastor Moody lumbered into room. "Are we having tea and no one invited me?" he growled. "Well, put down your tea cozies, Rufus Scrimgeour is demanding Albus' ear. Actually he's demanding another part of Albus' anatomy but I won't use the term in front of Filius."
"Thank you Alastor, you are a true gentleman. Remus? May I talk to you?" Filius questioned. "It's rather important. Albus, may I use your office?"
Albus Dumbledore agreed and Filius motioned for Remus to take a seat.
"I'll check Tobias' body to see what I can determine," the Charms Master informed Albus.
"Remus, I need to speak to you on a matter of utmost confidence." The Charms Master sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Please sit down."
The werewolf sat down and Filius held out his hand.
"What I tell you must not go any further than us," Filius requested. "Promise me?"
Remus stared at Filius and shook his head.
"If it affects my family, Filius, they need to know," insisted Remus.
"I can trust you, but I can't put any faith in Sirius Black," retorted the Charms Master. "Yes, he's your friend, but he's likely to go off, wand on the ready."
Debating the truth of Filius' words, Remus Lupin extended his hand. "I agree, though I'm not happy."
The Charms Master tapped their hands with his wand and nodded once. The Avowal spell tightened on Remus' skin for a brief moment and then dissipated.
"I don't know if it affects your family, Remus, but I fear it directly concerns you and Sirius Black because of your relationship… or lack of one… with Severus Snape," the Charms Master explained. "I don't have enough information to know if Dora and your baby will be targeted."
"What can you tell me?" a concerned Remus demanded.
"Severus was injured because of his loyalty to the Order. There is a great many issues that Albus and Severus needed to work out, but Albus royally buggered the situation. Severus feared that with his injuries, Albus would not be in need of his assistance," Filius explained. "Without Albus' backing, Severus' parole would be annulled and he'd be reprimanded back to Azkaban."
"Albus wouldn't just throw him out on the street," Remus protested.
"The Death Eaters tortured him, and put that idea into his head," Filius explained. "Understand that this is all conjecture, but the pieces are falling into place. Faced with the strong possibility of being returned to Azkaban, Severus fled. His injuries were substantial as you well know, and he was in need of continuing medical assistance."
Filius sighed, and then rubbed his temples.
"I have reason to suspect that Severus has found someone to assist him and that he's being sheltered by a wizard who holds no love for Albus Dumbledore…"
"Malfoy?" Lupin inserted.
"No. I believe that somehow Severus has managed to locate one of Gellert's Brotherhood."
"So, Severus is being assisted by a geriatric, outlawed wizard," Remus quipped.
"Albus Dumbledore is over one hundred years old and I am his senior in age. I can still knock you on your arse, boy," Filius growled. "That geriatric wizard has been successfully hiding for fifty years, Remus."
The werewolf nodded his head in agreement.
"This wizard seems to have taken a personal interest in Severus. An examination of recent events confirms my suspicions. I think he might be wooing Severus to join forces. Snape does have a great deal of information on the current magical situation on both sides. The Dark Wizard seems to be not only sheltering Severus from all those are looking for him, but is actively involved in removing some of Severus' troubles."
"Troubles?" Remus asked.
"Eileen Snape was being magically sustained by the St. Barbara's Healers. The wizard took Severus in to see his mother and then deliberately broke the Charms supporting her life support."
"He killed Severus' mother?" questioned Remus.
"Severus' mother was in a comatose state for last decade or so. Some might view what occurred as a mercy for her to finally pass on, especially if you were her son. I went there to investigate Severus' arrival there… and…"
Filius Flitwick paused and turned cherry red.
"The wizard had put up wards and I landed in the goldfish pond. I think that he meant to have enough time to get Severus out of the hospice, not attempt to drown me. The fact that Severus' father was murdered last night? Not a coincidence especially combined with the events in Prague. That Japanese mage claiming to be Imperio'd? Remus, Severus is not particularly fond of either Albus or He Who Must Not Be Named, so if his Protector set them up to meet in Prague… combined with the explosion… "
Remus' quick mind led him down the same mental path.
"They'll each believe that the other side ambushed them. It will leave to an all out Magical War," Remuse stated. "If this mage continues his strike and run tactics, we could get decimated."
"Easy pickings for a new World Order. By helping Severus, the Mage strengthens his own position," explained Filius.
A chilling thought which led to even dark thoughts.
"You believe that the Mage will come after me," Remus calmly stated.
"Yes. You have made several attempts at murdering Severus. Yes, you weren't in your right mind when it happened, Remus, but I'd be very careful if I was you."
"And if he decides to come after me, Sirius would also be on the list of Who Must Be Gotten Rid Of."
"I believe that he'll go after you first and then Sirius. That way Sirius can be saved for extra attention." Filius stated. "Sirius is the one that set up that meeting in the Shrieking Shack. Severus has never forgotten that and how Albus handled the situation. If I was trying to woo Severus, I'd make Sirius Black's death a truly memorable experience."
Horace Slughorn deliberately went through his list of contacts at the Ministry, determined to find the correct position to tempt young Percy Weasley into giving him the information. He was methodical, thorough and seeming lacking in anything resembling joie de vivre.
Department of International Magical Cooperation! That was a joyless occupation if Horace ever knew one. All the protocols, the needs for translations, the stuffiness of the French! It would be nirvana for Weasley!
Eileen Snape's funeral was tentatively scheduled for two days hence and it had a prominent place on his calendar. Several of his Slytherins had already asked for permission to attend and as House Head, he had agreed.
He sent off two owls, one to Anwell Maddock, the new Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, gently and diplomatically reminding him of past favors owed and then another one to Percy Weasley. It would be a very busy few days ahead for Horace and sustenance was required.
A somber Remus Lupin escorted Filius Flitwick to the morgue where Tobias Snape's body was held. The diminutive Charms Master flashed a piece of paper at the attendant which earned him a, "You lot, again? Very well he's in drawer A-5. Come along."
"Psychic paper," Filius explained to Remus. "Useful Charm as he sees what he wants to see."
"You coming? Or planning on chinwagging?" The morgue attendant groused.
"Come along," Filius ordered. "Do you have a stool for me?"
"Single stab wound, two inches below the nipple line," Filius explained. "It severed the intercostal artery. He was still alive when he was thrown in the river. There was no use of magic at all. Completely a run of the mill Muggle murder, which is odd. Now, would you mind opening his eyes?"
Remus gestured and Tobias' eyes opened.
"Oculus permaneo os!" Filius demanded.
A faint image of an Oriental man. Tobias' contempt for the man was obvious. Yes, the Oriental man had bought him liquor but he was like his son, he was a good for nothing mattress muncher. The freshly shorn, green eyed man next to the Oriental was his missus. Tobias despised men who thought they were women. A feeling of incredulous shock when he felt the knife go into this chest. The Caucasian male said something. Tobias was in such a state of disbelief, to be murdered by a bunch of gayboys to catch exactly what was said. Then he was being thrown into the water and he couldn't swim.
He couldn't swim…
"What a hateful man," whispered Remus.
"Imagine him as your father. Explains a great deal, doesn't it," Filius noted. "Let's focus on the Oriental fellow. I don't recognize the Caucasian, though the green eyes are a hint. What a coincidence, an Oriental seeming Muggle, a Imperio'd Japanese mage. It doesn't look like the same man."
"Glamour?"
"Strong possibility," agreed Filius. "I'm not detecting any magic used in Tobias' death, but it doesn't mean that Muggles truly did it. Let me find out if anyone's claimed the body yet. If there isn't a next of kin, I will handle the burial arrangements."
"You're a good man, Filius," was Remus' heartfelt response.
"No. If I was a good man, I would have prevented Severus from fleeing," Filius protested. "Minerva was the only one that went head to head with Albus over the situation and look what happened."
"Minerva, m'dear," Horace pleaded with his intractable patient. "Breathe this in. It will help your lungs."
Minerva hissed and then coughed. Horace, being more intelligent (Slytherin) than foolhardy (Gryffindor) refrained from commenting that she sounded like nothing more than a cat coughing up a exceeding large hairball.
His largesse earned him a mighty glare. In the other private ward, he could hear Molly Weasley exerting Arthur to also take his medication. Arthur was healing quicker than Minerva due to his age.
"You've got inhalation burns and this will help with the pulmonary edema you're experiencing," Horace cheerfully assured her. "Now, let me make this bed a little larger so we can chat."
With an easy flick and swish, he turned her infirmary bed into a large, comfortable bed with scarlet and gold duvets. The witch sank into the comfy featherbed and there were even matching pillows to match the duvet. Horace fluffed her pillows and again put the mask on her face. He sat next to her on the bed and he placed his arm around her.
"Inhale, m'dear," Horace ordered.
Minerva wiggled and Horace whispered in her ear.
"I need to talk to you about you know who," he said it quietly, hoping that she knew which You Know Who he was talking about. "There's a Durmstrang trained Potions Master who is supplying ingredients to Slug & Jiggers. His shop is in Manchester and it is a Ministry approved location."
Minerva squeezed his wand hand so tightly he feared that she bruised it.
"I might know someone who can get me the information on him," Horace explained.
"Don't… confront… him…. by… yourself," gasped the witch. While she wasn't at top form, she still had a commanding presence.
"M'dear, you're confusing me with you. I'm not that brave," the Potions Master protested.
"You … are… don't… sell… yourself… short…" rasped Minerva.
"You and I… we'll find our little lost boy and bring him home. Protect him from Albus," Slughorn promised.
She nodded once. Feeling rather Gryffindorish brave, Slughorn pecked her on her cheek. His gallantry earned him a blush from the lioness and his heart felt unexpectedly light.
"Take your medicine, m'dear."
"Well, yes, I understand that Dumbledore will probably have made all the arrangements for your mother's funeral…" the Russian witch began.
"Including large displays of purple flowers," sniped Severus. The two mages were walking in Sasha's Secret Magical Garden that didn't exist here or there but yet it did. "There will be a plethora of purple, an orgy of orchid, a helping of heliotrope and a proverbial ton of Tyrian purple. My mother's casket will be draped in purple plentitude."
"We can do a tussie-mussie," Oxana explained. "It's a small, hand held bouquet. We can just Translocate it into the casket. They'll never be able to Trace it back here."
Seveurs pinched his nose, wondering why Oxana cared so much about his mother.
"Do you have a preference? What flowers did your mother like?"
"My mother didn't like much," was his instinctive retort.
The witch thankfully just nodded her head, rather than issuing some sort of generic, all encompassing platitude.
"Calla Lilies? I have several types in the garden. One is a lovely white flower with the faintest tinge of lavender. Just in case you desire to go along with Dumbledore's motif."
There. On her face. It was just the faintest smirk, much like Minerva would have worn.
"Sasha believes this is madness," Severus offered in the hopes of an escape. Well, perhaps the Mad Mage thought it was insanity. He had grumbled, growled and made an ugly face when Oxana had first mentioned the idea.
"Sasha doesn't like examining grief too closely. Heartache has a tendency of completely unmanning him," was the witch's retort. "He did suggest adding a few pink roses to balance the lilies."
"Pink," Severus repeated. "Do I look like a pink person?"
"In the language of roses, it means sympathy," Oxana explained. "I have a shocking hot pink calla lily. It will horribly clash with the putrid purpleness. We can put it into the casket after they close it. I can use Grisha for line of sight and Translocate it in."
He was wavering and weakening. Eileen was his mother, for better and for worse. He would have scrounged the money up to ensure there were flowers for her interment.
"She did like pink flowers," was his weak admission.
"Let's pick them," the witch decided. "I have dragonhide gloves and a silver knife so they won't pull any auras off the flowers."
"Thank you, Percival, for agreeing to meet with me," Horace Slughorn smoothly stated. "Is this the first time you've eaten here?"
The ginger-haired lad agreed as Horace expected. The Green Man Inne was rather exclusive and the cost for one meal was easily greater than Mercy… Percy's… weekly take home salary.
"I hope you don't mind that I asked Anwell Maddock, the new Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation to join us? He's running a few minutes late. Poor soul, he's in dire need of someone to keep his office organized and his calendar running smoothly."
"I have to confess that I'm quite surprised that you invited me for lunch," Weasley informed Horace Slughorn.
"I'm getting slightly mad in my dotage. Do humor me, Percy and enjoy your meal. I was rather impressed by your thorough inspection of my cauldrons. Your predecessor was rather lax, and there was that unfortunate incident in Kilkenny." Horace shook his head in disapproval, and then poured the wine.
"I shouldn't drink as I have to return to work," Percy demurred.
"Don't worry; I've spoken to your supervisor. You're a hard worker and he's agreed to let you take the rest of the afternoon off with pay. He's an old student of mine and I've helped him during his career."
Horace rumbled a belly laugh and patted his walrus mustache dry with his napkin.
"He's quite nervous that I've taken an interest in you."
Percy flushed.
Not interested in your lovely bones, m'boy. I'm interested in what is in your head.
"People I've taken an interest in usually have outstanding careers in the Ministry. I know you're thinking Horace Slughorn is a hopeless reprobate, but I'm not. You see, when I was your age, my family was destitute. Barely had two sickles to our names. Someone took an interest in me, saw my potential and assisted me. So, I pay it forward," explained Horace.
Weasley still looked unconvinced but Horace understood that now was a time to sow a few kind words and then liberally water with patience.
"As I explained, Anwell is a good fellow, but gets distracted easily. He needs someone to keep his feet firmly attached to the ground. Someone who is methodical, no matter how tedious the responsibility is. Ah! There he is."
Perhaps by finding Severus, Horace Slughon could finally make amends for not taking more of an interest in the lad when he was a student.
"How many are dead?" Voldemort demanded. "Why are you the only one that returned? Where is Bellatrix?"
Lucius Malfoy was unable to answer due to the severity of his coughing fit.
"Lung damage," Rose, the dark Healer, tersely informed her Master. "He has burns on the lining of his lungs."
"Trap," the blonde Malfoy wheezed. "Explosions… Trap… Albus…. Order was there… Bella… dead… Minerva… Minerva killed her…"
He began coughing even harder and the witch shook her head.
"I need to fix his lungs and do it now. If I don't, he'll be dead within the hour."
Voldemort nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Heal him and be quick about it. I need more information. Lucius? Would you say that this was an ambush?"
That question earned a quick head nod of agreement.
"Albus has decided it's now time to move openly against us. He's declared war," Voldemort muttered. "He wouldn't do that unless he was absolutely sure he had the upper hand."
The trio of Horace, Anwell and Percy didn't even get to afters before Anwell had sized up Percy Weasley and decided that he quite liked what he saw. The job offer was tendered while Horace was savoring Lemon Sorbet with fresh mint in order to clear his palate. Anwell did have a fetish for ginger-haired boys but he was truly in need of someone to organize him. Yet, Anwell was acting quite fast for Anwell.
The two of them haggled like a fish monger and a parsimonious Scottish widow, how much was Percy to be paid, what was included and when would he start? Some might be alarmed that an up to now underappreciated Percy Weasley was quibbling overt his wages, but Horace was delighted. It was verbal foreplay and Anwell adored mouthy, gingered haired lads.
When Weasley remembered to thank Horace for the opportunity, Horace would be ready for him. A sad story about wanting to bring the Durmstrang Potions Master to Hogwarts to demonstrate some of the training differences between Potions Masters of the different schools and how Bartemus Slug and Wilbur Jiggers wouldn't help for fear of eliminating the middle mage.
It was a win-win situation, and Horace, whatever his many faults, did like helping out his friends.
"I don't know how to thank you," Percy informed him. Horace pretended not to notice that Anwell's hand was on Percy's upper thigh.
"Nothing m'boy. Just helping out… though… I'm wondering….if you might able to assist me in tracking down a Durmstrange mage located in Manchester? I've been trying to locate him so I can have a presentation to the seventh years about the differences in curriculum between our various schools. Beauxbaton is no problem; I even have connections with the Salem Institute. Slug and Jiggers won't give me his name, as they're afraid I'll go to him directly for supplies."
Fawkes the Phoenix had shamelessly browbeaten his mage into visiting Minerva. It was rather droll, how the mage universally declared the most powerful in the known world, was badgered, cudgeled and yes… nagged… by a large flying feather duster of the most ostentatious colors. Albus was exhausted, what with the exploding clock and having meetings with Aurors of eighteen different nations. Yet he knew that Fawkes would allow him no rest until he saw Minerva.
Meanwhile, the Yanks had just arrived, all brash and boldness, demanding an overview of the current situation and Albus had come this close to telling the entire lot to sod off. Instead, he had requested that Remus deal with them. Thank Merlin for the werewolf, as he was filling the various roles of the missing or incapacitated Order Members. After the International Conglomerate of Aurors was sent on their merry way, he was to contact the Order members for a mandatory meeting.
"My apologies, I must see how Minerva and Arthur are doing," he had told Richard, the lead American Auror.
"Is this war? Do you believe that You Know Who has declared open War?" Richard demanded.
Trust the Yanks, all fire and no manners, to have the bollocks to come out and ask the question that everyone else hadn't dared ask.
"We're not sure exactly what the current situation is," Remus inserted. "But panicking is not conducive…"
"We're not panicking! You lot have disturbed the status quo!" That outburst was from Pierre the French Magische Liga van Defensie' lead liaison.
Yes, the blessed status quo which was Latin for 'The mess we're in'."
He shouldn't begrude the Frogs their attitude as the Liga van Defensie' psyche had never truly recovered from the Dieppe Raid of 1942. Three Dark Wizards had managed to breach their defenses and destroy the entire bloody lot. Though considering one of the Dark Wizards had been Damyan the Beserker, should he be credited as more than one mage? The Liga had been proud, perhaps too overconfident over their alleged magical prowess, so to have their collective asses handed to them on a silver platter had been a shattering experience.
"Remus, please," Albus requested.
He fled from the Inquisition and returned to Minerva' private ward. She was propped into a sitting position thanks to a dozen or so pillows that he had conjured for her. Sitting up made it easier for her damaged lungs to do what they were supposed to do, but perhaps he had been a bit too excessive in his pillow making. Some of the troops had been in to see Minerva as someone had changed her ward bed into a rather luxurious featherbed… in Gryffindor colors no less.
She was still sleeping and carefully, he took her left hand into his.
"Why were you in Prague? I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."
Albus was still holding her hand when a puffing Horace and a grim Filius barged into her ward.
Horace Slughorn was a mage of considerable bulk yes, but also a wizard of substantial Magical talent. Potions was his first mistress, but he was a Masters in Charms, Transfiguration and the various other disciplines of the magical trade. He was even a rather superb duelist as he had miraculously discovered when an unexpected husband had arrived home in mid-assignation. To Horace's credit, the witch had never bothered to inform him that she was married when she had suggested a dalliance. Since then, Horace's personal policy had demanded that he ascertain his partner's romantic status in triplicate before savoring their delights.
Aleksandar Zoravkov had a small chemist shop called Serendipity located on New York Street in Manchester. According to Percy Weasley, Zoravkov had a partner, a Russian witch, no doubt one of Gellert's followers… and… and he had a grand-nephew. An alleged Drumstrang trained Potions Master who was getting back on his feet after a bad accident.
The second Durstrang Potions Master had his left arm in a sling so he wasn't actively brewing.
Yes, left arm.
The soon to be retired and leaving Manchester apothecary was most likely a mass murdering, deranged Dark Wizard and he wasn't alone. There was the witch, no doubt a suitable counterpart to Draganov and there was Severus. Allegedly powerless due to his condition, but he was supposed to be missing his left arm.
Yet he had a left arm, in a sling. Was it just a glamour? Or had Severus somehow managed…
No, Horace dare not mentally voice his hope. It was just impossible, there was no way… Poppy had said that the damage that couldn't be repaired.
Someone was required to investigate the state of affairs.
A bed-bound Minerva was in no condition. Albus couldn't handle the situation as he was too heavy-handed. Diplomacy, tact, and a strong preservation for one's self were the skills required for a successful extraction of Severus. With a quick Glamour and a quiet Disapparation, Horace found himself in the midst of Chinatown on the corner of Nicholas and Faulkner. The Imperial Gate was just over there, which meant that New York Street was ahead two blocks.
Slughorn wiped his brow. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't a bloody Gryffindor; he didn't tilt windmills for in his spare time for fun and exercise! Yet, Severus was a member of his House, one of his students that he failed because Horace had cavalierly dismissed him as not having sufficient potential to be 'interesting'. Ruddy, bloody fool. It was his responsibility that Severus had originally turned to He Who Scared Horace Very Very Much. Used by the dark side, misused and abused by the right, perhaps Severus had decided that it was time for the entire bloody lot to sod off?
Could Horace blame Severus' less than charitable attitude? Hell no!
If Horace was a fearsome Dark Wizard determined to hide in plain sight, he'd have sufficient wards so he'd know whenever a magic talent got too close. How far were his wards protruding from his shop? How sensitive where they? His uncertainties grew and grew until it took all of Horace's shaky courage to put one foot slowly in front of the other.
Horace could see the shop. Bloody hell. He stopped for a moment, and debated the wisdom of going into the dragon's den.
No. Best to wait for a bit, to see what happens. He wiped his brow once more and decided to take a seat and get some weight off his tired feet.
It was fortunate that he had decided to sit in that specific spot, as he was rewarded with two individuals walking out of the shop. One was a witch; tall, lean, athletic if you liked that type, though sadly Horace was partial to munificent and abundant curves. She was escorting a young man, dark, curly hair and his left arm was held in awkward position over his belly. It seemed that it was locked into a position of function as he appeared unable to move it.
Yet it was how the young man walked that captured Horace's undivided attention. In his right hand, he was using a cane to assist him in walking.
He was most assuredly waddling.
It wasn't Severus' face, but the man's carriage… Could it be? The inelegance of his gait spoke of a man comfortable with long strides reduced to short, mincing… waddling… steps. His back was paining him as his shoulders weren't quite as pulled back as they had been. No, they were rounded.
Bloody, bloody hell. Could it?
Was it?
The lad said something to the witch. There was a familiar twist to his lips as though he had just said something particularly snide and was feeling quite chuffed about it.
It was! It WAS Severus! The two of them paused for a moment, and the witch shook her head. The door to the shop opened and out came another man. He had grey hair cut quite short, and while Horace wasn't close enough to take a peek at the man's eyes, he'd bet that they were green.
It was time to get out of here, as Horace was in dire need of reinforcements. Minerva was out of commission, so he'd report to Filius. He didn't pay any attention to the floppy eared, one eyed dog that was keeping him under close observation.
The dog didn't mind Horace's inattention, as he was comfortable being ignored, except by members of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Those benevolent Muggles kept attempting to ensnare him. Toma Filipov wouldn't mind a nice vacation; his current task was to guard his brother. He wasn't a true precog, not by a long shot, but he had a bit of the Talent. Recently, he had been having dreams of warring dragons, phoenixes and serpents. It would have been counterproductive to warn Damnyan, as his few attempts at warning the subjects of his dreams has caused the situations to ricochet into uncharted depths.
He had informed Snezhana of his dreams, and she had assigned a coven of personnel to be prepared. The Brotherhood having been patient for far too long, had decided now was a perfect time to break Gellert out of prison. If St. Albus and Snake Face were at each other's throats, why…so much the better for their plan.
"The children are misbehaving," Damyan growled while he waved his arms in a vain effort to scare the kitties. Both Grisha and Nadya were busy twisting themselves around his ankles and chirping.
"Mage nearby," Oxana tersely explained to Severus. "Powerful one, judging by the fuzzies' reaction and it is not someone we know."
The Dark Wizard tripped when Nadya, deciding that she put enough effort into notifying her clueless master, collapsed into a boneless sprawl under his foot, necessitating him to gymnastically gyrate to avoid her. Ignoring her sputtering mage, she daintily began to lick one front paw.
"Whoever it was, he's gone now. Might have been a mage looking for one of the Chinese warlocks in Chinatown. They're a dodgy bunch," stated Damyan. "Best thing is to stay away from them."
The incongruity of a Dark Wizard calling another coven of Wizards dodgy was rather amusing to Severus. If it wasn't the cauldron calling the kettle black… He saw that Oxana was attempting to smother her smile.
"You lot! Don't be sarky! They are dodgy!"
"Of course they are dodgy," cooed the witch.
"They use oregano in their love potions! Oregano!" sputtered Damyan.
"Well, mint would be more conducive in a love potion as it would cause one's breath to be freshened," snarked Severus.
Damyan made a rude comment in some Slavic tongue which Severus didn't quite catch but Oxana did. The Bulgarian ignored her head shaking by concentrating on putting the "SHOP CLOSED – BE BACK AT TWO" on the door.
"Come on, we need to get you fed," Mother Oxana informed Severus. "You didn't eat enough breakfast and you must eat. There's this fantastic Thai place on George Street. When we get back, we can start packing up what we want to take."
He wasn't hungry. Hadn't been this morning when they had tried to tempt him with assorted delicacies for breakfast, but somehow Severus knew that they weren't going to let him skimp on another meal.
And yes, they were leaving Manchester in the near future. They were relocating to a sunny Caribbean island which was apparently a very happening Dark Wizard Vacation Resort. Severus didn't mind leaving Manchester. It wasn't home to him, as Hogwarts had once been. Yet the idea of his child being raised by the Brotherhood?
She deserved better, but yet Oxana and Damyan would love her and raise her, free from Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps it wasn't right, that he was taking her away from her father, but Albus Dumbledore hadn't proven that he was appreciative enough for the miracle known as Ari.
Minerva woke when Horace and Filius invaded her sick room. Albus had quickly dropped her hand when the two wizards had arrived; not wanting to risk even the hint of scandal. Horace was beaming, and Minerva, not realizing that Albus was sitting in the room, blurted out, "You found Severus!"
Albus made himself exceedingly still, so he could hear everything. Best not bring himself to anyone's attention as he didn't want to risk being tossed from the room.
"Yes. He's Glamoured, but I believe it's him." Horace admitted.
A still groggy Minerva continued to press for more information.
"I had a bit of a shufti. I fear that I'm turning Gryffindorish m'dear, and at my age too! He's with two mages, a Durmstrang Potion Master and a Russian witch," Horace explained. "The wizard has a small chemist shop called Serendipity. It's located on New York Street in Manchester."
"Draganov?" Minerva questioned. "Is the mage helping him, Damyan Draganov?"
"Draganov is dead," inserted a disbelieving Albus. Three pairs of eyes stared at him. The gooseberry colored eyes were uncertain, the blue eyes were narrowed in concern and the green eyes were looking more than a tad bit displeased to discover him in her room.
Albus wished that he had kept his mouth shut but it was now time for him to exit, stage left.
"We'll get him back," he announced. "Horace, you and Filius will report to me after you're done with Minerva. Don't even thinking of scarpering away. I wish to discover why you hypothesize that he's with Draganov. Don't you fret, Minerva, Severus will be back in Hogwarts shortly."
"But what if he doesn't want to come back," protested Minerva. "He doesn't particularly like you at the moment."
"He promised… he'd come back. He hasn't…that mage… that witch… might be holding him against his will… Severus needs medical care. Proper medical care, a Healer, not a Durmstrang Potions Master," protested Albus. "Filius, come with me. Horace, when you're done answering Minerva's questions, come to my quarters. We have much to discuss."
The Charms Master shook his head in disbelief and mouthed, 'I'll do what I can' to Minerva.
The two wizards exited, and Minerva sat up in the bed.
"Help me get dressed, Horace," she ordered. Well, Minerva attempted a commanding tone, instead, she sounded winded. "I need to get to Manchester. If I can talk to Severus, perhaps I can either warn him or have him come willingly."
"What if they're holding him against his will?" questioned Horace. "What if this is a trap?"
"You said, he's Glamoured. Can I see what he looks like? I have a very bad feeling, Horace."
Carefully, he pulled the wisp of the memory from his mind and gently placed his wand against Minerva's temple.
"Take it," he whispered. "We have to save our boy."
Minerva's eyes widened and then she pulled away.
"Bugger it! Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!"
She physically collapsed back into her bed and put her hands over her eyes. It took some time for Minerva to regain her composure and then she explained her outburst to a concerned Slughorn.
"That was him. In Manchester. At The Alamgiri Gate! Severus bloody smirked at me when he recognized us! The Russian witch is not just a witch; she's a ruddy, bloody renegade Russian Auror. Her name is Oxana Kameneva and I've met her. In Slug and Jiggers. She wanted purple vallmo, not the red, white or yellow."
"Purple vallmo is used in Drumstrang pain relief potions," Horace the professional stated.
Minerva cut him off in mid-sentence. "Yes, I know! Draganov will need three times the amount of scarlet Papaver somniferum to equate the request amount of purple Vallmo. He'll need to rarefy the mixture down. Boil it for two hours over a blue flame. It must be a blue flame. If it's not, it won't be concentrated enough. The mixture will be a rather distinct shade of lemon. Who cares about what color his bloody poppies are?"
"No, Minerva. It's important! purple vallmo is a very potent analgesic, normally used by amputees. We don't use it here because of the high risk of addiction but other countries use it. Part of the reason why we can't re-grow limbs is because of the nerve regeneration. It's extremely painful as each synapsis has to bud and grow. It's agony, absolute agony. Mages Medizinische Monatszeitschrift recently had an in depth article about budding of limbs. No one in Britian has successfully regenerated a limb…"
"Severus has a left arm," they both said at the same time. Horace's tone was delighted as he knew how much Potions meant to Severus. Minerva's voice was considering because He Who Deserved to be Cut up in Tiny Little Bits and Used as Fertilizer had taken away Severus' pride and limb while she and Albus had merrily destroyed Severus' shaky emotional equilibrium.
An arm. What would Severus do for an arm? Add to that, Damyan wasn't just a bloody Potions Master, he was a full-fled Healer. The child. Severus had obsessed over his death… what if Damyan had promised medical assistance? What if Severus could live and keep his child hidden and safe from Albus and from He Who Had Done This?
"Horace, you better report to Albus," Minerva suggested. She kept her voice weak, so she sounded exhausted.
"I'll have Poppy come in, give you a Calming Draft," Horace announced.
"You're so sexy when you're being commanding," offered Minerva. As she expected, a proper Horace blushed and fled from the room, giving her enough time to Transfigure her clothes into something presentable.
"He's not being held, Horace. Severus is with them, willingly," she said. "I must talk with him. Warn him that Albus is coming for him."
She had one option available to her. A Port Key. The Ministry would be furious, but let Albus deal with the ramifications. Minerva was quite finished with being the bailer of the leaky boat Dumbledore. He was a hundred and seventy eight years old; Minerva wasn't his mother so it was time for him to be responsible for once.
The Port Key found her landing neatly on the doorstep of Serendipty. A small, blue gray cat hissed at her and Minerva glared back. The cat's reaction was most likely instinctive; most cats didn't care for Minerva as they saw her as both cat-like and most assuredly non-cat.
She entered into the shop. There were three people in the shop and there was a bag of take away containers sitting on the counter.
"We're closed," Damyan announced. His hand was resting on a small, ivory dragon. "Read the sign. We're open at two."
Minerva ignored Damyan. He was only a Dark Wizard, after all. Severus was her friend and she would show no fear. She turned toward Severus who was behind Oxana. The Russian witch's eyes were cold and considering.
"Severus… Albus has discovered that you're here… You… your friends… you need to leave…"
Minerva's lungs protested and she began to cough. She couldn't catch her breath but she reached for Severus.
"Run… Run, you damn fool."
Her coughing continued and she felt Draganov next to her. He was putting one hand over her mouth and pinching off her nose with his other hand.
I can't catch my breath, she mentally screamed. I can't bloody breathe! You're going to kill me!
Her wand! Where was her wand! She needed to defend herself, yet she couldn't speak... couldn't concentrate enough to nonverbalize a spell.