Author's Note: This is the first half of the chapter. More to come tonight or tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled. Have a lot of errands to run tonight, so I couldn't get it all typed and edited. Enjoy!

"How did the poison get into her tea?"

"Diagon Alley?"

"Surely they didn't poison an entire shipment –"

"We would've heard about a rash of poison deaths, don't you think, Emmeline?"

"So we're assuming someone broke into her house and planted the poison in her cupboard?"

"If the person had knowledge of her protective enchantments and how to break them, it's possible."

Severus listened to the babble around him with an impassive face. The Order meeting had been called as soon as Hestia was strong enough to attend, which meant a late night trip away from the castle without alerting Dolores Umbridge. He stifled a yawn, wondering if Albus would forgive him if he nodded off in the middle of the talk. He knew well that Albus was expecting him to give information on what had happened and fully intended to disappoint him. He was on thin enough ice with the Dark Lord, he didn't need anything else weighing on his mind when next he spoke with his master. The displeasure at the failed poisoning would be more than enough to endure.

"Severus, have you learned anything more about this incident?"

It was Minerva who asked, rather startling Severus with the calm in her voice. He'd braced himself for the inevitable accusations that would be flung his way.

"I haven't been summoned to the Dark Lord since the poisoning occurred, and it would be unwise for me to appear without his call." Severus recited the words he had chosen as his cover.

Minerva nodded in satisfaction and the speculation began again. Severus felt his lip curl. Sometimes the ease with which he manipulated these people was tiresome. It took only a carefully selected phrase for the entire Order to decide he truly had no information.

Well, not the entire Order. Albus was giving him a sternly appraising look, but Severus had borne worse. The only other person who was still looking at him was Treasa. The look in her hazel eyes was unsettling. It took several moments of covert glances for him to ascertain why. It was a foreign expression to him, equal parts interest and determination and another emotion he couldn't quite put a name to. It held none of the bitter heat he had come to expect from her, but its intensity was arresting. She caught his glance the last time and looked away, fastening her attention on the current debate between Lupin and Dedalus Diggle about questioning Diagon Alley merchants. The color rose slightly in her cheeks. Severus narrowed his eyes. She was no schoolgirl – a flush in her cheek was an indicator of some strong emotion indeed. He waited for her to look round again. It took only seconds for the focus on Lupin to falter and her eyes to shift slowly back to him. When she met his gaze, the flush deepened. Then she did something he thought never to see her do.

She smiled.

It was a tiny, fleeting thing, no more than a spasm of her lips, but it had been there, and she had been looking at him. In his experience… well, he had rarely seen her smile at all, so his experience had little bearing here. Still, there had been something knowing in that smile, something akin to smugness. He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at her, and was rewarded by an equally miniscule tilt of her chin. She was inviting the scrutiny. She wanted to talk.

As soon as Dumbledore officially ended the meeting, Severus stood and edged his way toward the door. He was never one to stay and chat with any of them, and he had no intention of drawing attention by hanging about waiting for Treasa. If she wanted to speak to him, she could just as well seek him out.

"Professor."

Her voice in his left ear was startling. He pivoted on his heel and found her already a step outside the kitchen door. He parted his lips to speak, but she shook her head and cut a glance at the others. They were all engrossed in conversations around the table. Most had yet to move from beside their chairs. He nodded and followed her down the hallway.

As he had anticipated, they wound up in the potions laboratory. Treasa held the door ajar as he entered, then took her time closing it. Severus didn't bother breaking the silence. He perused the bottles lined neatly on the shelves, noting that she seemed to be running low on ginger root and salamander blood. Surely by now she had found a way around her imprisonment and was able to replenish –

"You are a strange man, Severus Snape."

He turned to her, his face impassive. "Perhaps."

Her eyes were searching his, but he had already fortified his mind. The look on her face told him she knew the attempt was futile. The frown worrying her brow was almost regretful. It wasn't an expression he intended to indulge.

"What was it you wished to speak to me about? I have essays to mark before tomorrow's classes."

"You poisoned her." Treasa's chin was high, her eyes steady as she uttered the accusation. Breaking the eye contact, she moved into the room, measuring each step with the same slow intensity of her words. "You brewed a cocktail of poisons you've used before, Transfigured it into a powder and slipped it into Hestia's tea tin. I'd guess you sneaked past her protective enchantments that very morning."

Severus didn't bother responding as she paused, though he did have to remind himself to blink.

"I know that Hestia had been getting too close to Avery for comfort, and I can guess that you were ordered to do something about, permanently. I can also guess that Avery would have preferred the assignment. From what I recall of the man, bloodshed is a bit of a hobby with him."

"If you know all this, I wonder why you bothered dragging me down here to tell me," Severus said coldly. It was uncanny how perceptive this witch could be when she chose.

"Because of what I don't know." Treasa had reached the table of cauldrons and stood staring into the empty one nearest her. Her fingers traced the lip at the top as she turned again to face him, eyes fairly gleaming.

"And that is?"

"Why."

The brevity of the statement caught him off-guard. Before he could countermand the action, he half-opened his mouth to answer. Rather fortunately for him, she didn't give him the chance.

"Why didn't you let Avery handle it? Why did you trust to such an unreliable medium as tea to ensure that she drank enough to kill her and didn't accidentally get to the wrong victim?" Her hand left the cauldron and came up to gesture toward the cabinet. "Why did you pick a poison you knew full well I had prepared an antidote for if your true objective was murder?"

"Intriguing questions, all," Severus retorted with what he hoped was his usual haughty tone. "But you're operating under the assumption that I am the poisoner, and that I would admit to it even if I were."

"In short," Treasa continued, ignoring his interruption, "why would a man as clever as you are handle the situation in such a bumbling way that practically ensures his failure?"

Severus attempted to look bored, but had the most unsettling feeling that he wasn't succeeding. "You assume a great deal in your questions."

She shook her head. "You think I don't remember how it once was? When I lived in your house, you could have poisoned half the Order and not left the slightest hint it was you behind it. Which brings me back to my original question. Why?"

"Are we working on the presumption that I am faithful to the Dark Lord or to the Order?" Severus asked, scrambling to push aside the memories she'd conjured for him.

"I don't know."

He froze at the quiet words. Treasa was staring at him, the frown still etching wrinkles in her forehead. She was telling the truth, that much was certain. What was uncertain was whether he was willing to do the same. Instinctively, he fell back on his usual defenses.

"A Ravenclaw admitting ignorance?" He sneered.

Treasa pulled back a fraction, as he had intended. Sarcasm had the advantage of disengaging an opponent with minimal effort. But she leaned forward again almost instantly, negating the advantage he had just won.

"Only a fool claims to know all," she said, that knowing smile tugging at her lips again. "But then, I imagine you're familiar with that concept. Here's what I think: I think that maybe, just maybe, you're more Dumbledore's man than I wish to think you. It'd be so much more convenient to loathe you and call it principle, but it looks as if I can't do that any longer."

"Why not?" Severus allowed himself a dry, bitter chuckle. "You're hardly the first."

"Because I can remember only one other time when you purposefully failed a mission for the Dark Lord."

The memory of that night seared through him with such force it took his breath away. He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating. It took physical effort to push it back before any of the images solidified, and it was with an all-too-physical shudder that he opened his eyes and met Treasa's once more.

She nodded. "I thought as much. It's about her, isn't it?"