Author's Note: If you'd like an idea of what Treasa's wand looks like, google "verawood wand." There's a picture and description of the wand's magical properties.

The black eyes boring into hers showed only faint traces of surprise. Treasa gritted her teeth as another wave of anger built in her chest. Of all the places for Severus Snape to come back into her life, she had not anticipated an Order of the Phoenix meeting. Her personal favorite scenario had included a duel during which she soundly defeated him and sent him back to his master with the humiliating knowledge that she had spared his life.

Her eyes settled on Dumbledore, who seemed to be trying to keep back a chuckle.

"My dear Miss Shannon, Professor Snape has been a member of the Order for the last fourteen years."

Treasa's mind stepped in with the calculations without her willing it. He must have joined just after she had been taken… though she knew better than to suppose that her absence had caused him anything other than a moment's confusion at best. He certainly had done nothing to save her from the fate Voldemort planned.

"I see," she murmured, forcing a pleasant smile as she looked at Severus. As far as she knew, he was the only other one in the room who knew of their relationship, and she hoped to keep it that way. "Forgive me, Professor Snape, for doubting you."

He, at least, had retained his ability to read nonverbal signals. He nodded as coldly as if they truly had never seen each other outside of the corridors at Hogwarts. "Of course, Miss Shannon. "

The first concrete thing that registered with her was the lack of seating around the table. In fact, there were only two chairs left. One was to Severus's left, and only a few steps away. She could easily slide into that one and end the rather interested stares that were starting to gather on the two of them. Never.

The other chair was between Molly Weasley and Sirius Black at the other end of the table. Treasa took a deep breath as she moved toward them, willing her anger not to break through the surface. She didn't need to draw any more attention to herself.

"What were you saying, Severus?" Dumbledore prompted as Treasa's chair scraped up to the table.

"The Dark Lord has no plans to actively move against the boy unless he can do so indirectly. He wishes to gain power and not risk another mistake –"

Sirius half-bolted from his chair, startling Treasa. "Mistake? Is that what you call it? That boy is alive because of his own powers and courage, not because of some slip-up of your master's –"

Treasa could feel an anger that matched her own shimmering off the man next to her. His fist was flexing, and he was ignoring Lupin's attempts to calm him. Molly gave another tsk as the air rippled with the tension.

"Sirius."

It was Dumbledore's stern voice, sounding much as it had when they were in school. Treasa immediately straightened in response, smirking a little as nearly everyone around the table did the same. Moody leaned back, magic eye hopping from Dumbledore to Snape to Sirius. Severus merely stayed still, a sneer curling his lip. Sirius turned from him to Dumbledore, the stubborn lines of his body relaxing instantly.

"I merely report what I have been told, Black," Severus said coldly as Sirius reclaimed his seat. "Potter's escape was unexpected, and the Dark Lord does not wish to be so surprised again."

Sirius muttered something mostly unintelligible, eyes darting to Dumbledore before he slumped back in his seat in what could only be described as a pout. Treasa kept her eyes carefully between Dumbledore and Severus, just close enough that she could not be accused of looking away. She was still reeling inside from the shock of seeing him here, of all places.

Just like a Slytherin. The thought cooled her anger, leaving only the large cold lump of resentment that had built to near-hatred over the last decade. It stood to reason that such a dedicated Slytherin as Severus had discovered a way to worm himself back into the wizarding world's good graces after Voldemort's defeat.

"What should we do, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall asked, breaking the tense silence.

"For the moment, do our best to combat Voldemort's plans as discreetly as possible. If he wishes to get at Harry indirectly, he could easily use the people in this room."

There was a general murmur of assent. Treasa couldn't help but feel slightly left out. She had yet to meet the famous boy, and yet she was surrounded by people who were near enough to him to be used as weapons against him. She glanced at Severus, feeling her own lip curl in imitation of the expression on his face. Then again, Voldemort had thought her important enough to Severus to use her as a weapon. He had been unfortunately mistaken.

"Arthur, Molly, I recommend bringing your children to stay here as soon as possible," Dumbledore said. Molly gave a tremulous jerk of agreement as he continued. "Someone must inform Miss Granger and bring her here as well."

"What about you, Albus?" Moody grunted. "It don't take a Legilimens to figure Voldemort's setting his wand against you just as much as Potter."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I daresay I'll manage."

"Managing isn't good enough," Moody snapped. "You've always been a sight too lax for your own good. Being brilliant doesn't make you immortal."

"Which brings me to my next order of business," Dumbledore said smoothly. "We must recruit just as much as our friends the Death Eaters if we can hope to stand against them when the time comes."

"Bill and Charlie want to help," Arthur volunteered. "They're both willing to come home and stay."

Treasa felt rather than heard Molly's sob of fear. The older woman was fairly quaking, and her face had gone white. Bill and Charlie were sons of hers, obviously. Years of healer training prodded by the bond of a few hours' friendship prompted Treasa to reach out. Few things soothed a fear like a kindly touch. The gentle pat of the back of Molly's arm was rewarded by a brave smile and mouthed thanks.

"…Perhaps Charlie should stay where he is," Dumbledore mused. "Let me think on it, Arthur. I will give you my ideas on the matter soon. And now, surely we have talked enough on empty stomachs. Molly, is dinner ready?"

Treasa couldn't help but feel as if Dumbledore had also noticed Molly's distress. The headmaster was prone to such things. Molly bustled over to check the pot, motioning impatiently at Arthur to come help carry it. Treasa half-rose from her chair, only to have Arthur motion her back.

"For tonight, you are a guest, Miss Shannon," Arthur said with all the chivalry of a true Gryffindor. He grinned, "Next time you come, you're more than welcome to help as much as you want."

Treasa chuckled and nodded. The sound froze in her throat as a shadow fell over her. Severus stood beside her, holding out her wand, hilt first. Her heart jumped. She had not expected him to come anywhere near her.

"I would suggest, Miss Shannon, that you keep your wand close," he intoned with as much emotion as if he were addressing a complete stranger. "It is not wise to leave such a distinctive wand where anyone can see or steal it."

"Anyone in the Order?" Sirius snapped, nearly making both of them start.

"As you say, Black," Severus said silkily, his eyes flicking back to Treasa impatiently. "This piece is distinctive enough that I recognized it even after all these years. If anyone wished you harm it would be an easily identifiable bit of property."

Treasa grasped the handle. "You have a long memory, Professor," she said coldly. "Rather sharper than I would have expected."

The slightest deepening of the crease between his eyebrows was his only indicator that her veiled barb had been received. Treasa studied his face for a moment. The years had not been kind to him, she noted with an almost guilty sense of satisfaction. He looked the part of a miserable, crotchety, confirmed bachelor fully twenty years older than he actually was. His hair was just as greasy as ever. Treasa adjusted her own bun placidly. It was good to know he had been affected by the years as she had.

"Good evening, Miss Shannon," he said, sweeping Sirius with an icy glare before walking away.

Treasa followed him with her eyes. Minerva McGonagall stopped him at the door, gesturing to the table. He shook his head and rushed through the doorway as if a werewolf were on his heels.

"Old Snivellus can't bring himself to accept Black hospitality," Sirius said easily, chuckling as he turned from his own observation of Snape. "Can't say I'm heartbroken by it."

"As I recall, you were never the best of friends in school," Treasa said, giving the first safe answer than came to mind.

"You Ravenclaw lot didn't go in much for school gossip, did you?" Sirius gave an outright laugh that time, hearty and mellow. "Snape and I were practically blood enemies by the end of seventh year."

At least we have that in common. Treasa's reply was cut off by a large tureen of stew being placed between Sirius and herself.

"Come, everyone, tuck in!" Dumbledore ordered, sending goblets around with a flick of his wand.

It came as no surprise to Treasa that Molly Weasley was an excellent cook, but the silence and speed with which her offerings were devoured were high praise. Treasa carried her dishes to the sink, determined to at least help with the tidying after the meal.

"So, how many children do you have, Molly?" Treasa asked as she carried several goblets to the sink.

Molly looked up from the cleaning spell she was directing at a crusted over part of a pan. Her face was flushed. "Well, let's see," she puffed, blowing a red curl out of her eyes. "There's Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, the twins, Ron and Ginny. Six boys and one girl."

Treasa raised her eyebrows. "It's a marvel you haven't lost your senses with so many to care for."

Molly laughed. "One gets by, you know. It's amazing what you can do if you find that you must. I was thankful Ginny was a girl – I do believe that seven is my absolute limit. Do you have any children?"

Treasa shook her head. It was too complicated to try to navigate that conversation. She had no children, but had been married for sixteen years. Her husband was an acknowledged Death Eater, who apparently now worked closely with the Order of the Phoenix. Complicated didn't begin to cover it.

"Ah well, your time will come," Molly predicted. "I can't understand why a pretty witch such as yourself never yet caught herself a man."

Treasa levitated the kettle out of the soap suds, casting a quick drying spell before setting it on the counter. "I suppose I never found the right wizard."

Her left thumb absently rubbed the underside of her empty ring finger. That much was as true today as it had been sixteen years ago when there had been a silver serpent on that finger. Severus Snape had never been the right wizard for her.