Sirius Black ran his hand through his blond hair, straightened his Slytherin robes, and strode through the door of Malfoy Manor. He hadn't had much interaction with Draco, but Elizabeth and Ron had been tutoring him while the Polyjuice potion was brewing.

"More hips!" Ron had shouted while they were practicing the Draco-swagger. "You are God's gift to everyone!"

"That shouldn't be hard for him to pretend," Remus jibbed, sitting on the sofa watching the proceedings.

Now, Sirius was less focused on his hips and more focused on the amount of dark magic that protected the house. It was likely that the wards would not be fooled by the Polyjuice potion. In that event, Sirius could only hope that the Black blood running through his veins would make the wards believe that he was a friend of Madam Malfoy nee Black.

Inside (he had made it into the entryway with all his bodily functions in tact), he wandered into the hallway, unsure exactly what to do next.

"Draco?" Lucius' voice came from a room to his right.

Sirius paused a moment. Pretend he's your father, he thought to himself. You grew up like this. It's just like home. Be the pure-blooded, stick-up-your-arse wizard you were born to be.

"Draco? Answer me!" Lucius' voice snapped again.

"Yes, Father," Sirius called.

"Come here," Lucius ordered, and Sirius obeyed, going into the room that turned out to be Lucius' study. "You are supposed to be at school, are you not?"

"Professor Umbridge sent us home for the afternoon," Sirius lied smoothly. "McGonagall is having some kind of Mudblood convention," he sniffed. "Professor Umbridge thought there was no need for us to be subjected to such a thing."

"I would think not," Lucius nodded. "Well, amuse yourself somewhere, please. I have work to do."

"Yes, Father," Sirius said obediently. "It's just…"

"What?" Lucius snapped, not looking up from the parchment he was writing on.

"Do you know where Professor Snape went?"

"To hell, probably," Lucius said, still not looking up. "And good riddance. I should have never allowed that man near you."

"Crabbe said his father saw him a few weeks ago. He said they 'took care of him'." Sirius was bluffing now, a gamble, but if he was wrong, he could always blame it on a lying teenager. Ron assured him that Draco's friends were not terribly reliable.

Lucius chuckled, a cold, stomach-churning sound. "Our Lord received an anonymous tip of where the traitor could be found. Skulking around the Forbidden Forest," Lucius laughed again. "Unfortunately, he didn't have his brat with him. Anyway, he was right where the informant said he'd be."

"So he's dead?" Sirius asked, trying to process the situation like Draco.

"There are worse things than death," Lucius said, his mouth twisting into something like a smile, and opened his desk drawer. "There are other ways to take a man's life." He pulled out a clear glass bottle that swirled with silver smoke. "I've got his life right in here." He slid the bottle back into the drawer. "Now go. I have work to attend to."

"Yes, Father," Sirius left the room, leaning against the wall outside the door. Severus' memories were in that bottle. All he had to do was take them back.

*S*S*

"You should be able to make a back-up copy of memories," Hermione said, carefully stirring the liquid in the cauldron. "Like Muggle computers. You could put in on a diskette."

"You are an intelligent girl, and that is a stupid comment," Severus said, carefully shredding the unicorn horn in his hand with a sharp razor.

"Oh," Hermione said quickly. "I forgot that you probably don't know what a computer—

"There were computers in the 1980's," Severus broke in, "and while I am sure that they have progressed measurably since I last encountered one, my assessment of your comment is not that a computer could not do such a thing, but rather that you think that there isn't a vastly superior magical method."

"There is?" Hermione carefully added licorice root to the brew. "I've been doing reading—

"Memories are… tricky," Severus said, his mind flitting to the letter he'd received from Dumbledore. "Copy and preservation of memories requires a bit of yourself. Of your soul." He looked at Hermione carefully. "Memories, without a person to carry them, relive them, love them…. hate them…" he cleared his throat. "Memories are only memories because we need them to be. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "And so you can take memories store them… but if you wanted to make copies, you'd have to… create something that could appreciate them?"

Severus smiled. A genuine smile that so rarely crossed his face when not in response to his daughter. "An adequate synthesis of a difficult concept," he pronounced, dropping the shredded horn into his cauldron. "If it were easy, or even wise, more people might attempt such a thing. But it is neither. Your soul is never so strong as when you first enter this world. Just living batters it, builds it up, and tears it down. If you start taking pieces of it, actual chunks of what makes you a person…" he paused, "that is a dangerous game. You can never be sure who you'll be at the end of it, and whether or not it was worth the risk."

Hermione was quiet for a long time, stirring and adding ingredients; and Severus did the same. It was nearly twenty minutes later that she spoke again. "Why didn't Voldemort kill you?"

Severus didn't answer for a long, slow beat. "Because it benefited him not to do so," he said finally.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "You can't be the only Potion's Master he has in his circle."

Severus looked at her. "Do we… you and I… have this relationship? The kind where you are extraordinarily frank and I find that refreshing in a way that keeps me from cutting out your tongue?"

Hermione blushed. "You said that an intelligent Gryffindor was such an anomaly that you would allow me to study with you if only so you could determine what caused such a derivation from the natural order of things." She smiled, "I think you get tired of talking to stupid people all day."

"That is certainly a possibility," Severus said wryly. "To answer your question, no. I am not the only Potions Master the Dark Lord employs, nor am I particularly gifted in the level of dark magic he expects. However, he retains me for the same reason Albus Dumbledore keeps me under his watchful eye," he pressed his lips together. "The knowledge I possess, of both sides of this clash, are too valuable to release. It is not me, or my talents that make me valuable. In fact, in my current state as an empty shell, I am considerably less dangerous to either of them."

"But they have your memories now," Hermione said. "Why leave the shell?"

"Stop and think," Severus said simply.

Hermione paused, her eyes staring at the tabletop, then dancing up to look at him. "Because memories are nothing without the person who cares about them."

Severus smiled a little. "Correct. I did not willingly provide those memories. I did not gift them to someone. I did not declare that someone look at them in a dying wish. They were taken from me. If I die, they will cease to exist. However," he frowned a bit. "They are certainly very dangerous now. I am not at all sure how the walls of Occlumency work in a situation like this. I doubt any Order secrets are hidden from the Dark Lord's gaze."

"You're sure it was him?"

Severus nodded. "I am certain. The action reeks of the Dark Lord's hand. I can verily feel the dark magic on my skin. However," he planted his hands on the tabletop, "There is another link. Another piece that takes this plot outside the Dark Lord's circle."

"Which is?"

"The person who led him to me," Severus said quietly. "We know two people knew my general whereabouts that night. However, I am certain that there were three. Someone who keeps their attention on my activities."

Hermione frowned. "Who?"

Severus looked at her gravely. "Stop and think."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know."

Severus snorted. "This is where the lion is you is going to fail your brain," he said, straightening up and clasping his hands behind his back, pacing as if he were giving a classroom lecture. "If the Dark Lord was privy to every memory I had over the past even six months we would be surrounded by Death Eaters right now. However, we stand here, relatively unscathed."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Someone altered your memory before Voldemort took it?"

"Edited, I should think," Severus agreed. "As I've said, memories are tricky. It would require a great deal of skill to obliviate some information and leave the rest without a trace. It would have to be someone I had a great deal of contact with, who knew most, if not all, of what could be found in my memories."

Hermione paused, her breath coming quicker, her eyes darting around the floor as she processed the information. It was a long minute, maybe two, when her eyes snapped to his, and her face went white. "No."

"I told you to stop thinking like a lion," Severus smiled sadly. "You're ignoring facts because you have emotional ties." He sat on one of the stools. "In your defense, I have to say that you aren't the only one who has ignored the signs. In fact, I must say that the liberation of 15 years from my mind has sharpened it somewhat in this regard. I've no doubt that for that period of time, the man has worked diligently on my emotions in an attempt to safeguard any such realization. However," he shook his head, "it appears that this latest scheme has backfired a bit."

"We can't tell anyone," Hermione said quickly.

Severus smirked. "I think we established already that no one would believe us."

*S*S*

Polyjuice potion was not meant to last forever. In fact, constant use could lead to physical or mental issues. Given this fact, Sirius Black had limited time to retrieve the bottle from Lucius' desk.

On the one hand, Lucius was a paranoid enough man to lock the study in his own house when he left it. So it might be better to attempt the theft while the man was still working. He looked around. Everything in the house was gleaming. He couldn't imagine Narcissa doing anything resembling housework, so the Malfoys must employ (if you could use that term) a large number of house elves.

House elves.

Striding out the door and into the garden, Sirius closed his eyes and apparated outside Headquarters. He nearly leapt up the stairs, throwing himself into the atrium.

"Elizabeth!"

"Sirius?" Elizabeth came running from the kitchen, looking at Draco-Sirius. "What happened?"

"Get Dobby," Sirius ordered.

Severus came down the stairs. "Who's Dobby?"

"Elizabeth's house elf," Fred appeared from the kitchen as well.

Severus looked at his daughter. "You have a house elf?"

"Elizabeth!" Sirius said again, waving off the others in the room. "Now!"

"Dobby!" Elizabeth called. There was a pop, and the big-eared elf appeared in front of him.

"Miss Elizabeth Evans!" Dooby exclaimed, nearly knocking her over as he launched himself at her. "There are terrible things happening!"

"I know, Dobby." Elizabeth awkwardly patted his head. "But Sirius needs you."

"Mr. Black?" Dobby bowed to the man near the door, who was rapidly losing his blond hair and pointy features.

"Dobby, there's a bottle in Lucius Malfoy's desk. We need it." Sirius bent to look at the elf. "Can you get it without being seen?"

Dobby nodded. "Of course. Elizabeth Evans needs it?" He looked at Elizabeth, who nodded.

"Yes," she said, willing to trust the look in Sirius' eyes.

"Dobby will be right back!" The elf disappeared, and the remaining occupants of the room were left staring at each other.

"The bottle?" Elizabeth broke the silence, looking at Sirius.

Sirius ran his hand through his lengthening hair. "There was an informant," he said quietly. "Whoever that was told the Death Eaters where to find you," he looked at Severus. "Malfoy said you were in the Forbidden Forest."

Severus shook his head. 'I would never have gone that close to Hogwarts. And where would I have gotten the pen?"

"In Muggle London," Fred said slowly. "The 'informant' stunned you, moved you, and left you to be captured."

"He's not as stupid as he looks," Severus said, raising an eyebrow at Elizabeth.

"Dad," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

Dobby reappeared with a sharp crack, holding the bottle from Lucius' drawer. "This is the what you need?"

Sirius nodded, taking the bottle, holding it up to the light. "Ready, Snape?"

Elizabeth frowned. "It's too easy. There's no way it was that easy."

Severus nodded. "I agree. But I've no doubt that at least some of my memories are in that bottle. The question is, which ones?"

"Some of them?" Elizabeth looked at him. "Why would someone split up your memory?"

"We need to get started," Severus said, ignoring the question. "I'll have to replace them myself, so it will have to be a slow process."

"You said that last time you went to sleep—

"That was when I had someone skilled in memory work," Severus interrupted. "So unless one of you has become so in the last fifteen years?" He looked around as Remus and Sirius shook their heads. "I thought not." He held out his hand for the bottle, and once it was in his hand, turned and started down the stairs to the lab.

"Wait, I'll go with you," Elizabeth moved to follow, but Severus waved her away and kept walking. Those left behind heard the door close firmly behind him.

Elizabeth took a step back, feeling like the door had been slammed in her face.

"Here," Remus stepped behind her and put an arm under her chin, pulling her against him. "He was a very private person," Remus said quietly. "Still is, even with all his memories restored. Just be patient."

Elizabeth shook his arm off. "I don't want to be patient," she said, fighting back angry tears. "If he wanted to remember me, he would. Or he'd feel something for me, but he doesn't. Maybe he never felt—

"Stop," Sirius cut in, his voice sharper than Elizabeth had ever heard. "There are people in the world that can deny that their parents love them. You aren't one of them. So stop talking nonsense."

"Let's go into the living room," Fred suggested.

But Elizabeth just shook her head and went upstairs to her own room, closing the door behind her.

*S*S*

Severus was walking down a dark corridor to an open room at the end, filled with people in Muggle clothing. Muggles. Sacrifices.

"Brothers and sisters," the silver mask could not hide the distain dripping from Lucius Malfoy's voice. "We are gathered today to receive tribute. We gather to mete out the penalty for the disrespect Muggle-lovers showed our Lord." Lucius' hand shot out, snagging the woman closest to him, all but throwing her to Severus. "It is your turn to have the honors."

Severus gripped the woman's dark hair. It twisted in between his pale fingers. Wordlessly, he forced her to her knees before him and lowered his wand to her temple.

He forced the killing curse through his lips and watched the woman sag to the ground, her hair yanking against his fingers as her body weight pulled her down. Strands of it came loose, and even when he pulled his hand away; he was still tangled in pieces of her.

"Straight to the point," Lucius laughed coldly. "Perhaps someone else can give us a bit more… entertainment." He shoved another prisoner, a young girl, at the Death Eater to his left.

*S*S*

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

*S*S*

Severus sat heavily on one of the lab stools. Memory after memory of every terrible thing he'd ever done. Over and over, he watched himself break every law, natural or man-made, under the guise of spying. Over and over, his brain was assaulted by images that made him wonder exactly what kind of person he'd become in the last 15 years.

There were no memories of Elizabeth. Only a few of anything having to do with Hogwarts. His suspicions were correct. These memories were edited. And he was fairly certain that he knew who held the rest of them.