Snape swirled the brandy in his cup as he slouched in the armchair by his fireplace, regarding the twisting, eddying flames with morose fascination. He had yet to take more than the first sip. His thoughts were absorbing enough to make the physical realities dim around him.

How had she managed to stay hidden for the last fourteen years? He prided himself on keeping informed on the doings of any who might have connections to the Death Eaters. Surely someone as close as Treasa Shannon could not have escaped his watchfulness.

A gusty sigh sent a few long tendrils of hair further across his face. Severus brushed them aside impatiently, raising his glass to his lips.

The fire flamed green as Dumbledore's head and shoulders appeared amidst the flames. Several drops of brandy lodged in Snape's lungs as he inhaled. The coughing fit was mercifully short-lived, but it was through watery eyes that Snape regarded the headmaster.

"Coming down with something, Severus?"

Snape raised an eyebrow as he cleared his throat one last time. "Yes, a certain allergic reaction to invasions of my privacy."

"May I come in?" Dumbledore asked. Snape would have sworn he could hear the insufferable chuckle in his voice.

"Do I have a choice?" He asked drily.

"Good," Dumbledore said, still sporting that sprightly tone Severus had never been able to understand.

Moments later he stood in the library, shaking the last of the Floo powder off his robes. Severus poured a second glass of brandy and held it out silently. He eyed his own nearly-empty glass and decided not to risk another misadventure. He'd had enough for one evening.

"To a successful meeting," Dumbledore toasted, pausing to savor the brandy. "Excellent, Severus, just the nightcap I was looking for."

"May I assume you didn't come merely for my alcohol selection?" Severus asked, bypassing the attempt at small talk. Dumbledore always tried. Severus had given up guessing why.

"We covered quite a bit over dinner. It's a shame you had to leave so quickly. Urgent business, I trust?" Dumbledore said mildly, looking around at the bookshelves.

Snape gave a thin smile. "More allergies."

Dumbledore shot him a sharp look. "Nothing you cannot overcome, surely."

Severus recognized that warning tone. It was a none-too-gentle reminder of the conditions of their relationship. Severus was granted forgiveness unconditionally, but his acceptance was wholly dependent on how closely he followed Dumbledore's instructions.

"I shall endeavor to fortify myself, but I suggest you discuss this matter with Black – I believe he suffers from the same malady."

"More's the pity, I must say." Dumbledore sighed. "Now, on to our own business. Is there anything else you can tell me about Voldemort's plans?"

"He is anxious to get at Potter in any way he can without risking himself," Severus said. "I've done my best to suggest passive things - planting restlessness and discontent in the boy's mind, for example. He is rather susceptible to such things, after all."

"And this is passive?" Dumbledore interrupted, his voice still mild, but definitely questioning.

"Lucius Malfoy suggested killing the boy's relatives so their protective wards would no longer stand. By comparison, I must say I considered a little angst for our dear little celebrity to be a desirable alternative." Snape said, letting his voice laze over the words to hide the irritation.

"Point well taken, my boy," Dumbledore conceded, raising his glass for a contemplative sip.

Snape bit the inside of his lip, wondering how long it would take for Dumbledore to mention her. It was one of the few pieces of his life that had remained hidden from the headmaster, and he preferred to keep it that way. On the other hand, evading questions when they came was rarely a wise tactic with Dumbledore.

"Speaking of the Malfoys, do you realize you have a close relative of theirs in the Order?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. "There are at least five members of the Order who can claim direct relations to the Malfoys; to which were you referring?"

One to you, Dumbledore. Snape's tooth sank into his lip again. "The new mediwitch – Shannon, wasn't it?"

"Treasa Shannon is no more a Death Eater than you are, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "You were in school together, weren't you?"

"Yes, and I recall she was most attached to her cousin Narcissa. Rather a know-it-all from what I recall, always meddling where she wasn't wanted." Snape traced the rim of his glass with his finger, calculating how much to pry. "I don't believe I've heard anything of her since we left school. Has she been at St. Mungo's all this time?"

Dumbledore's eyes rested on him for a long moment. Snape tentatively raised his Occlumency shields, though Dumbledore had never given him cause to use them.

"She said she angered some of the Death Eaters and was forced to leave the wizarding community. She has been a Muggle healer – a nurse. It was only recently that she returned to the country and to St. Mungo's. " Dumbledore paused. "Do you know anything about her disagreements with the Death Eaters? I should like to know exactly how much danger she will be in now Voldemort has returned."

"I do not know why she was forced to flee the country," Snape said slowly. That much was true enough. To the best of his knowledge, she could have simply fled his presence, now he knew she had not been executed –

A burning pain shot up his left forearm. Severus grabbed at it reflexively, grinding his teeth. The years of peace made the summons harder to bear than in the old days. He looked up at Dumbledore, who was eyeing him in concern.

"Go on, lad, I'll cork the brandy before I leave."

Snape didn't waste the mental energy to come up with a retort. He checked to be sure his wand was still inside his robes, then focused on the one thing he did not wish to. Voldemort.

A moment later he was catching his breath on the Malfoy lawn. Of course, Lucius would have offered the sprawling estate as a haven for the Death Eaters. Snape jumped slightly as loud crack nearby announced the arrival of Crabbe. He nodded silently at the man, hiding his distaste at the beefy man's vaguely reverent expression.

They walked in together. Snape tuned out Crabbe's wheezy breathing and searched through his memories of the meeting. There were only a few moments he could make available, now that Shannon's face featured so prominently in so many. Black – yes, he could use those, and those of Dumbledore asking about recruits. That would be of interest to the Dark Lord.

Draco met them at the door, his pointed face almost flushed with excitement.

"Professor," he said importantly, barely deigning to acknowledge Crabbe's presence.

"Draco," Severus kept his face impassive. He had always rather liked Draco, despite the marks of his mother's pampering. The boy had a certain gift with potions, and had always been devoted to Snape, though for what reason the professor could only guess at. "Have you completed the research on properties of the bezoar yet?"

Draco gave a snorting laugh. "Not quite, sir. I've been busy with other matters."

I've no doubt, Mr. Malfoy.

Draco stared icily at Crabbe, who was obviously waiting for instructions. "Everyone's gathering in the dining room, just through there."

Crabbe hesitated only a moment before nodding and heading in the direction Draco indicated. Draco waited until he had turned the corner before he stepped closer to Snape.

"I've been working on my Occlumency. Father says I've a talent for it, and he thinks it'll be a useful thing when… when I'm a bit older – if the Dark Lord should have need of me, you know."

Snape controlled the flinch at the eagerness in Draco's voice. He saw only the glory and power associated with the Dark Lord. Severus saw a hint of his own youthful enthusiasm for the Dark Arts in the blond Slytherin. A good Slytherin would weigh the advantages and risks before allying himself, something Snape intended to remind his students when term began again.

"A talent for Occlumency, eh?" Severus said, grasping his wand. "Let's have a go, then."

Draco's eyes widened for a moment. Snape saw the hesitation before his lips woodenly formed a smirk. "I know I'm not half so good as you, sir. Father says there's none better in the whole country – he even said…" Draco paused, suddenly diffident. "Well, I was wondering if perhaps you could teach me more."

"After I've seen your current capabilities, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said impatiently, motioning him backwards with his wand. Draco's tendency to babble slightly when asking for something was beyond Snape's current toleration level.

Draco stepped back, tightening his upper body in preparation. Snape gave him an extra span of a breath to compose himself before raising his wand and speaking the spell in a slow, measured tone.

"Legilimens."

Draco's initial shield was surprisingly strong. Snape found himself with no immediate memories to seize upon. He probed the defense, exerting only as much power as he felt Draco could reasonably withstand. It took only seconds for the shield to crack. A memory came into view, one of Lucius telling Draco of the honor of standing in the Dark Lord's presence. Draco was grinning broadly, soaking in the overblown tale. Severus could see the calculating gleam in Lucius' eyes. He wanted Draco completely indoctrinated when the time came.

Snape severed the link, watching Draco steady himself. The boy's eyes were searching his face with hooded anxiety.

"Your concentration needs work. It is not merely the ability to create the shields that is the heart of Occlumency, it is the ability to fortify them against attack," Snape said, hearing his voice slide into lecture tone.

Draco nodded, the slightest slump of his shoulders betraying his disappointment. Snape looked away for a moment, weighing his reactions. The boy was one of his Slytherins, after all. They were not as coddled as they had been under Horace Slughorn, perhaps, but all the students in his house knew Snape gave them praise when it was deserved, a treat reserved only for Slytherins.

"Still, you've done well on your own, Draco." The boy's face lit up for a moment before he carefully guarded his expression. Snape nodded in approval. "Come see me when school begins and we shall see about some lessons."

Another Death Eater was hurrying up the walk, so Snape nodded curtly at Draco and continued into the dining room.

The air was fraught with tension. The Death Eaters were gathered in whispering clumps around the room, some by the fireplace, three by the window, four or five seated at one end of the long, polished, ebony dining table. Wormtail stood sentinel by a door leading into the drawing room and the rest of the house. Severus noted the new pride in the insufferable man's bearing. He had finally succeeded in groveling his way into success.

There were a few trays of cold cuts and cheese on the table, Narcissa's doing, no doubt. Severus' stomach clenched, reminding him that he had turned down Molly Weasley's hot stew and the only sustenance he had taken was the interrupted glass of brandy. Here, at least, he would need fortification. He headed toward the trays, nodding at the various followers as he passed.

Malfoy walked up as Severus bit into a cube of cheese.

"Ah, Severus, so good to see you here and on time," Lucius said in the smooth, drawling tone that made the barb stick that much deeper. "The Dark Lord will be so… pleased."

Severus let himself finish chewing at his normal rate, giving himself time to raise the partial shields he always kept at the ready when near Death Eaters. "Lucius. Draco tells me you've been particularly honored by the Dark Lord – as indeed our presence here suggests. The grounds are safe, I trust?"

Lucius' chest swelled a little. "I believe I've covered the manor with enough protective spells to keep even the great Albus Dumbledore at bay. If any idiots from the Ministry should express an interest in snooping, well… I will say only that, on the whole, Ministry officials are surprisingly susceptible to the Imperius Curse."

"Indeed." Snape made note of that to inform Dumbledore. He nodded approvingly, remembering a time when Lucius' gift with the Imperius had been a source of great amusement at Hogwarts. In fact, he had once set three Ravenclaws to doing the whole of Slytherin House's homework for a week before another Ravenclaw had interfered.

Treasa. Snape's mouth tightened. It had been Treasa Shannon who reported them to Flitwick. Lucius was regarding him with an odd expression in those pale blue eyes. Snape relaxed his features, reaching for a slice of bread and some of the cold chicken.

"When is the Dark Lord to appear?" Snape asked casually. "I expected him to be waiting for us."

"He is currently hearing a report from Fenrir Greyback," Lucius said, motioning toward the drawing room door where Wormtail stood guard. "I daresay it will not be much longer."

As if in response to his statement, the door opened and Lord Voldemort swept into the room. Everyone immediately dropped to their knees as he passed, stopping at the head of the table. Once he had seated himself, he motioned the others to stand with a flick of his hand. Lucius moved to claim the seat on his right, hesitating until he saw Voldemort's nod of approval. Wormtail positioned himself on the left, only to be shoved aside by Greyback, whose snarl kept him from attempting to reclaim his position.

The other Death Eaters arranged themselves in acknowledged order, some heading instantly to the foot of the table, others jostling each other for the middle positions. Lucius put his arm over the back of the chair to his left, motioning Snape toward it with a jerk of his head. Severus controlled the slight grin of triumph and claimed the seat, noting Voldemort's nod of welcome. It had not taken long for Voldemort to forget his initial suspicion and take him back as a trusted lieutenant, and Lucius, however jealous he may be, was quick to recognize Snape's return to favor.

"Death Eaters, you have done well since our last gathering," Voldemort began, his high, cold tones as truly approving as was possible for him to make them. "I see several new recruits, and Greyback has informed me he can promise us the support of the werewolves."

There was a murmur of approval that ran around the table. Snape could feel the chill that accompanied it, however. Having a werewolf on your side was comforting, but only until the full moon.

"I have been in contact with the dementors, and they are prepared to join us when the moment is right. For now, I wish to maintain our focus on the Ministry, particularly the Department of Mysteries. There is something there I greatly desire."

Snape sat a little straighter, focusing on Voldemort's quiet voice.

"You see, my faithful Death Eaters, there is a prophecy concerning myself and one who is supposed to destroy me. Our own Severus Snape first informed me of the prophecy almost fifteen years ago, but he was unable to report the entire prophecy."

Lucius' eyes rested on him in cool appraisal. Severus endured the gaze unflinchingly, his eyes on Voldemort. Let Lucius judge all he wished. He had done more than Malfoy could dream of, simply by using his ears.

"I believe the rest of the prophecy will prove useful in our current endeavors. If Potter can be removed as a threat, the rest of the wizarding world will be much more – amenable to our goals. For now, he remains their shining hope."

"I will retrieve the prophecy for you, my Lord. I have many contacts at the Ministry." Lucius volunteered.

Snape hid his smirk as Voldemort turned his attention on Lucius. Being over-eager was never wise with the Dark Lord.

"It must be accomplished with as little disruption as possible, Lucius," Voldemort said softly. "I believe more careful planning is in order."

"Lucius could certainly begin making inquiries, my Lord," Severus suggested. "I have been told by Dumbledore that the Order of the Phoenix is anxious to establish a footing in the Ministry as well. It would be best to distract them with another threat."

"Such as?"

"Potter."

Voldemort's eyes widened in satisfaction. "I've no doubt there is a plan simmering in that mind of yours, Severus. Go on."

Severus chose his words carefully. "It would be unwise for you to move against him directly at this time. However, if you could entice him to do our work for us – run away from his aunt and uncle's house, for example, or perhaps perform some magic and let the Ministry render him powerless for us. The Order of the Phoenix would turn their attention to the boy and leave the Ministry more vulnerable."

Voldemort stroked his chin, considering. A quiet murmuring around the table told Snape his plan was well-received.

"Dementors." It was Lucius' voice that broke in next. Voldemort's eyes cut to him, eyebrows raised. "You said the dementors have pledged their allegiance. Send them to the boy's home. He'll either be defeated, or be forced to perform magic and have his wand broken for it."

Potter has fought dementors before, you fool. Snape halted the objection before it reached his lips. Yes, Potter had defeated dementors over a year ago. In fact, the likelihood of him failing this time was slim. It would, however, be a diversion, a necessary one. He sat back, his silence indicating approval.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "I will think on it. We must choose a time when Potter is most susceptible to aggravation. Perhaps a few more weeks at home will prove just the irritant we need."