Minerva was droning on about something, he couldn't care what. The final event was tonight and he was reluctant, to say the least. He knew Olivia would be required to be there. He just wasn't ready to see her yet, the wound was still too fresh. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to see her again. Minerva elbowed him, knocking his fork across his plate with a screech that hurt his teeth.

"Damnit, woman."

"She's here," Minerva whispered.

Severus didn't have to ask who she was talking about. He could feel her presence when she walked in, a strange tickling feeling. He slowly looked up at her, shocked at her appearance. She looked tired. Eyes sunken in with dark purple circles underneath. Her cheekbones looked sharper, no doubt from the weight she had lost. Her hands trembled as she stood there, ringing her hands, nibbling on her lip. He missed her lips. Severus didn't want to look at her any more. It was too painful. He stood quickly, returning to his chambers to await the third task.

Evening came. Severus had tried to rest his body but ended up pacing instead. He was proud that he only threw up twice. On second thought…

Three times.

Severus stood over his sink, water running cool so he could splash his face and brush his teeth. His hair was damp and hung limply in his face. Not that it mattered, he wasn't trying to impress anyone. He looked into his reflection, watching his pupils constrict as the impenetrable mask of Occlumency took over. He had been practicing since his meeting with Dumbledore. He wanted to make sure his shields were strong, unbreachable. He needed to survive and survival meant hiding everything.

He changed his shirt, having perspired through it. He stood in front of the mirror, face stoic as he slowly worked his way through his battle gear. Counting the steps to ground his thoughts.

Seven buttons on his crisp, white Oxford shirt.

Two cufflinks to close the sleeves.

Nine black-clothed buttons of his frock closed, leaving the top three open to allow room for his cravat.

Nine black buttons on each sleeve, to keep his frock tight. Ebony wand slid into the enchanted holster on his left forearm, hidden from view from everyone else.

Silk cravat slid against his throat, dexterous fingers knotting it properly.

Dragonhide boots we slid on over black socks, 4 buttons done to fasten each pants leg.

35 buttons. One for each year of his life. Odd thought.

With one last glance at his reflection, he strode out of the castle, headed towards the final destination. He climbed the stairs, taking a seat at the front to be able to stare at the maze and hear the instructions. He wanted a good view of the events and especially of Igor. He settled down towards the front, preparing himself for the task. Poppy arrived next, a broken witch followed closely behind. They sat beside him, mercifully, Olivia sat on the far end so he didn't need to smell her. He couldn't risk any distractions tonight.

The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Moody, Minerva, and Fllitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Minerva to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" Said Bagman.

The four champions walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttering "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed in the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with 85 points each, Mr. Cedric Diggiry and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts school!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place with 80 points, Mr. Victor Krum, of Durmstrang institute!" More applause. "And in third place Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy!" Severus could hear the small cheer that Olivia emitted over the roar of the audience, his senses still automatically defaulted to her. "So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three— two— one—"

A short blast of a whistle, and the two boys strode into the maze. A short time later, Krum followed, as did Delacour. Severus sat at the edge of his seat, eyes unblinking as he watched for anything dark. Cries and screams could be heard, the crackling of hexes and bright lights sometimes made their way through the hedge maze. A flash of red and the Beauxbatons were guaranteed last place as she was carried out of the maze. Some time later, Krum was taken out. Severus bristled. The boy had been cursed. He looked to Karkaroff, eyes ablaze in fear and anger.

It felt like hours had passed. The audience was growing restless. Suddenly, Severus felt it.

White hot pain, burning through his skin. He felt the dark presence of his master for the first time in 14 years. He jumped in his seat, hand clamping over his burning forearm as he struggled to keep quiet. He watched as Karkaroff stood, eyes empty as he slithered through the stands, leaving his students alone as he skunk off in the night.

Coward.

Severus struggled to keep quiet, sweat beading in his hairline as the summons only burned worse. He took a deep breath, raising his shield even higher. He searched for Dumbledore, needing to inform him as discreetly as possible. Several minutes passed, and there were too many people here. They were in danger. They have to leave, but what could he do?

Suddenly, a loud crack and bright light. Potter and Diggory appeared, grasping the Triwizard cup. A thunderous applause rung out, celebratory music started to play as flashbulbs went off as cameras took pictures of the champions. But something was wrong.

Potter wailed. "No! No!" he was grabbing at Diggory, covering the other boy with his body—protecting him.

Severus rushed down the stairs, finding Dumbledore hunched over the two students. Minerva crouched down next to the boy, whispering something. Cloak waving behind him, he placed a reassuring hand on Dumbledore's back, for just an instant before he stood straight, eyes scanning the crowd for anything foreboding.

"He's back," Harry cried. "He's back. Voldemort's back."

"What's going on? What's happened?" The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Potter; it looked white, appalled.

"My God — Diggory!" he whispered. "Dumbledore — he's dead!" The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them ... and then others shouted it — screeched it — into the night — "He's dead!"

Severus removed his cloak, draping it over the dead boy, attempting to maintain his dignity as the crowd started pushing forward.

"He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!" "Harry, let go of him," Severus heard Fudge's voice say, but Potter wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, leaned in closer.

"Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered — it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents. . . ."

"That's right, Harry . . . just let go now. . . ." Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Potter from the ground and set him on his feet. The boy swayed.

Severus noted that Potter was bleeding from his arm, and his leg was badly injured. He had a sudden urge to protect him, for Lily. His own pain was forgotten in an instant, everything blurring together in a swirl of movements and noise. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly on them—

"What's happened?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Diggory's dead!"

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured — Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands..."

"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him —"

"No, I would prefer —"

"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running... he's coming over… Don't you think you should tell him — before he sees — ?"

"Harry, stay here —"

"Let me through…Let me through!" A man cried, the crowd scattering out of his way like confused cattle. Severus couldn't stop staring at the body of the young man as the father threw himself to the ground.

"That's my son! That's my boy!" he bellowed.

Severus' heart clenched in his chest, to have to survive that pain…the hurt of losing a child.

"Dumbledore said stay." Severus snapped to attention at hearing spotter struggle. Moody was pulling him towards the castle.

"You need to lie down… Come on now..."

Severus ran to Dumbledore in an instant. It was time.

Severus hastily ushered Dumbledore and Minerva up the hill, striding toward the castle as fast as he could. Something was wrong–woefully wrong. Well, something besides the poor dead boy and burn of the Dark Mark. Severus recentered his focus on Potter, currently being dragged away by Moody. The trio of professors quickly, but quietly, stalked behind them, wands drawn. They were surprisingly fast, despite both Potter and Moody sporting limps causing the professors to fall behind.

Severus scoffed and rolled his eyes, practically tapping his foot as his anxiety rolled over his body. He felt odd without his cloak billowing in the wind behind him, remembering he had left it with the boy. As Minerva ascended the hill, he looked over her head at the large crowd gathering around the fallen Hufflepuff. He couldn't help but scan the field, looking for the flash of blue that would accompany a certain Mediwitch who no doubt would be helping Poppy at the moment.

They finally made their way inside the castle, quickly moving to the Defense office. They made it to the doorway, listening to rising voices behind the warded door.

Imagine how he will reward me when he learns that I have once and for all silenced the great Harry Potter.

"Stupefy!" There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart — Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor. Severus stared in awe as he felt the raw power of Albus Dumbledore. Severus had seen him in a temper a time or two, but it was in this moment, when the old man's face was contorted into one of pure power and hatred. Gone was the benign smile and twinkling eyes, leaving a snarling man with an outstretched wand pointed dangerously at the unconscious auror.

Severus and Minerva looked at each other briefly, before pulling their own wands and pointing them at the man. With a cold fury, Dumbledore kicked Moody's body over onto his back so they could look upon his face. Severus crept over to the Foe-Glass, staring back at his own face, surprised to see how tired and fearful he looked. He quickly pushed his fears down, setting his face with his usual sneer.

Minerva grabbed Potter and tried to take him to the hospital wing, her mouth twitching as she held back her tears. The boy was too young to have to experience so much trauma. "Come along…hospital wing…" she sniffled.

"No," said Dumbledore sharply.

"Albus, he ought to— look at him— he's been through enough tonight…"

"He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand," he said curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."

Thank you Headmaster, as always, for your words of advice. Severus snarled as he began chewing the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from shouting at the man. Severus knew trauma. Yes, the boy would need to be made aware of the situation, perhaps talk about it. But the last thing he needed was to sit here and watch this while his bloody arm…literally bloody arm…dripped all over the floor.

Severus was confused. Why would Alastor be doing this? What had he to gain? He knew something was off about the man– had been all bloody year. He was constantly antagonizing Snape, spying on him, and seemed to develop a drinking habit. Severus' eyes widened slightly as he searched for the flask. He flipped open the lid and breathed deeply.

"Polyjuice potion," he mumbled. He missed the snide remark the Headmaster made, excusing Potter from the petty theft Severus had been sure of. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Dumbledore calling to him.

"Severus," the Headmaster called, I require the strongest truth serum you have. He held out his hand, waiting to grasp the phial, never taking his eyes off the prisoner. Severus stepped forward, dumping the entire phial into the man's mouth. Severus knew damned well there were ways to gain an immunity to Veritaserum, and he wouldn't take any chances. He'd give him every last drop.

Dumbledore angrily questioned Moody, wand digging into his neck as he growled his questions. Mood instantly replied, struggling against the potion only slightly before he spoke in a flat tone. After a few minutes, Moody started to transform before their eyes. Severus sneered when he saw who had been living a lie.

Barty fucking Crouch…junior.

Severus was royally fucked. Crouch knew everything. He knew about Karkaroff, he knew about Severus protecting Harry–to an extent, at least. He had been through his private rooms. And worst of all, he knew about Olivia. Severus wanted to kill him. Severus would kill him if given the chance.

Crouch had glanced to a large trunk, answering Dumbledore's question about where the real Moody was. Severus immediately moved to take action. "Potter! Move away," he snapped. With a strong arm, he pushed Minerva behind himself, automatically shielding her without any thought. Minerva grabbed hold of Potter and clutched him against her. Severus waited to ensure they were safely behind before he waved his wand, opening the trunk.

7 different locks and layers of the trunk were broken through. Severus grew more anxious as the trunk revealed more and more. Then, finally, the seventh opened, Severus, Minerva, and the Headmaster all crept forward, looking down into some sort of pit, an underground room. Dumbledore instantly turned to Crouch and cast a spell to bind him to the chair with ropes, as the three professors looked down upon a half-starved and semi-conscious Auror.

Minerva had been given a task that Severus did not overhear. She had walked off and returned a few minutes later. Dumbledore had summoned a house-elf who cried over her old master as he shared secret after secret. Severus felt his throat tighten as the story went on, a thin layer of sweat started beading around his hairline as he rubbed the handle of his wand which he had yet to lower.

Evidently, Voldemort had gone to Crouch one evening, being carried by the fucking rat-faced death eater. They had captured Bertha Jorkins on her Holiday and tortured her until they learned of the Triwizard tournament, before striking her down with a killing curse.

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" Dumbledore questioned the man, eyes sparkling as if he were luring a bug into his deadly web.

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the Cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first —"

"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore.

Severus stopped listening yet again, placing all the puzzle pieces together. How often had he mentioned to Dumbledore about Jorkins only to have it brushed off? And Pettigrrew, that fucking rat. Severus turned to glare at the Potter boy who was entranced in the story. If the little fucker would have just trusted him last year, Wormtail would be dead. Now, the dangerous, spineless vermin was on the loose. Crouch had admitted to killing his father and burying him as a bone in Hagrid's pumpkin patch, and had turned the Triwizard cup into a portkey. Severus had started rubbing his Mark again, hoping that the burning would soon stop; fearful of what it meant for his life if it did.

Damned either way.

"Severus, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"

Snape offered a curt nod, taking a sick pleasure as he drew out his wand and jabbed it into Crouch's neck. Dumbledore turned to Minerva, asking her to summon Poppy to retrieve the real moody and give him medical attention. Once the room was clear, Severus pulled himself up into his full height.

"Well, well, Crouch. Quite the little conundrum you find yourself in this evening, hmm?"

"Fuck you, traitor." He spat.

Severus chuckled, the hairs on Crouch's arm became erect, betraying his cool demeanor. He was scared, knowing full well that Severus was a powerful wizard. "What have you told the Dark Lord?"

"Nothing. I've had no way to contact him."

Severus sighed. "It is a shame that the potion is still working. I would have enjoyed taking you apart, making you scream your secrets. Alas, I have no choice but to take you for your word. The men stood there for a few minutes, teeth bared as if they would murder each other if the other so much as moved.

Poppy came and left, Alastor carried out magically on a gurney. Minerva returned, taking her stance beside Severus. Before long, Fudge had arrived on scene and all Hell broke loose.

The air suddenly grew cold and all thoughts of happiness and joy had suddenly disappeared. Severus was immediately slammed with an overwhelming sense of doom.

"Oh, fuck! Minerva, get behind me."

A hooded entity floated in behind Fudge, its rattling breath shook Severus to his core. Severus spread his arms, keeping the witch safe behind him as the Dementor swooped in and started feeding from both himself and Crouch. Severus felt weak, falling to his knees as he felt the putrid breath of the figure as it closed its hand around his throat. Severus looked up, seeing the horrific sight of the Dementor's mouth opening. He barely registered Minerva's scream of horror.

"No, No you fool! This one!" Fudge cried, directing the Dementor over to Crouch. Severus looked up through his eyelashes, head bobbing against a crouching Minerva who had rushed to his aid. The last thing he thought of as the Dementor sealed its lips over the young man's lips were that of satisfaction. Crouch couldn't be allowed to live; he had escaped Azkaban once and surely could do it again. He was too dangerous to be left alive. Still, he knew he'd have to put on some sort of show.

XOX

Olivia was shocked. Appalled. A boy was dead. His father's screams made her want to vomit. She instinctively covered her empty womb, praying to every God in existence that she'd never know that pain. She rushed down the stairs with Poppy, trying to see if there was anything they could do, but it was too late. He had been killed with the killing curse, and only one person had ever survived it.

They offered calming draughts to the parents and delicately moved the body. Once they had seen to that, Olivia grabbed Severus' cloak, bringing it to her nose to breathe in his scent. It was her own personalized calming draught. Both witches sat in the hospital wing in silence. Tea was summoned but not drank, steam gradually transitioning into an icy brew that would offer little comfort.

Poppy had been summoned. The Defense Professor was trapped in a pit, malnourished and barely holding on. The Moody she knew…the one that kept spying on Severus, was a Death Eater. Her veins grew cold. What could this possibly mean? Severus had explained, with little detail, she supposed, the first war. She now knew who the Dark Lord was, and she knew of Death Eaters. She had come back and done thorough research, wanting to understand Severus better but…somehow never truly saw him as one of these… deviants.

But what did it mean for Severus, this speak of His return? Was he in danger? Was she? Did he know this would happen? Perhaps that's why he left her? To protect her? Her heart was pounding in her chest as she struggled to put the puzzle together. She was terrified, this was really happening. This was real danger. She struggled with the hope that was blossoming in her chest, hope that Severus was just trying to protect her, to save her… that she had a chance of convincing him she didn't need protecting. She could be a powerful witch on her own, with just a little practice and training. But her thoughts shouldn't be on him. They should be on Cedric, on the students who would undoubtedly be traumatized.

Poppy came back with Alastor, Harry Potter was dropped off as well. A large group of redheads gathered around the boy, trying to cheer him up while Poppy worked to heal the boy. Suddenly, there was a loud commotion, Olivia popped out into the main hall to see what was going on.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva —" a man was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" She yelled back. "When Dumbledore finds out —"

The hospital door burst open, Cornelius Fudge came striding up the ward. Minerva and Severus were at his heels, Olivia's heart clenched. He looked furious—murderous… and so, so tired. It seemed like all his happiness was gone, he was just…drained. She ran to him, watching him stumble into Poppy's office. She found him, opening a desk drawer and pulling out a small square of chocolate. He nibbled on it, closing his eyes as he supported himself against the large desk.

"Severus? Are you ok?" she rushed to him, grabbing at his hands, wanting nothing more than to comfort the man she loved.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Kindly remove your hands from my person." He snatched his hands away and took a large step backwards, scowling at her.

Tears burned in her eyes. How could she have forgotten? She had been caught up in the moment, desperate to make sure he was safe and unharmed. She had actually forgotten he no longer wanted her. She couldn't help but look at how weak he was, her compulsion to help him only grew stronger, but she knew he wouldn't allow her to help. She hung her head slightly, before turning to step out of the office. She wouldn't stray too far– even if the wizard no longer wanted her, she was compelled and determined to ensure his wellbeing.

Olivia noticed that at some point the Headmaster had entered the hospital. He seemed to be having some sort of argument with the Minister, and Minerva seemed even more furious than when she arrived. She felt her robes rustle as Severus snuck out behind her, his hand accidentally caressed hers as he exited. She couldn't help but shiver.

"Severus, I'm surprised at you — I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch —"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" Minerva shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

Olivia had never seen the witch lose control like this. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and her hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch —"

Olivia noted that he still seemed winded. She attempted to get closer to him, to see if she could help him in any way but he merely pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning up against and stood beside Minerva.

Why was he being so stubborn? He could hate her all he wanted but he could at least give her the comfort of knowing he was healthy.

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Minerva fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge, who likewise looked livid, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —" But Professor Minerva's voice drowned Fudge's.

"The moment that — that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and — and —"

Olivia felt a chill in his stomach as Minerva struggled to find words to describe what had happened. The younger witch did not need her to finish her sentence. That's why Severus needed chocolate–a fucking Dementor!

"Severus!" she fussed in a loud whisper. He continued to ignore her, popping another small piece of chocolate into his mouth. His color looked a little better, although that could be more from his face turning red with his anger towards the situation between himself, Dumbledore, and the Minister.

"You-Know-Who… returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…"

Olivia prickled at the name. Surely this wasn't true. Fudge had to be right…right? For if this was really true…what would that mean for her poor wizard?

Olivia was having a hard time keeping up. She hadn't been privy to a lot of this information. She kept looking at Severus. He was pale and sweaty and kept grabbing at his arm… his Mark! Oh, Merlin. Severus was in pain. It was true, all of it. He was being called back. She longed to join the fight, feeling a desire to push through her fear, to serve a greater purpose. She wanted to help, afterall, why work in healthcare if not to save lives?

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back," yelled Harry. Olivia jumped, surprised at hearing the boy's voice, she thought he was tucked away safely in his bed. She made a passing glance at a large, black dog baring his teeth at the Minister as if protecting the boy. She thought it was weird at first but quickly forgot all about him when Harry spoke again.

"I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"

Snape made a sudden movement, but as the boy looked at him, Severus' eyes flew back to Fudge. Olivia slapped her hand over her mouth, holding back a gasp. Not Lucius! Surely he had put that lifestyle behind him? Lucius and Narcissa seemed like such lovely people, and they were definitely aware that herself and Severus were not Purebloods.

The men continued to shout at one another. Olivia was paralyzed with fear, she had never seen Dumbledore so angry, or Minerva for that matter. And Severus… poor Severus.

"He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…."

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly.

No! Severus…Don't! Olivia cried out audibly, leaning against the wall for support. Tears fell from her eyes, fearful he would be imprisoned…forced to lose his soul to The Kiss.

"There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge stepped back from Severus. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry." He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him

The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around the boy's bed. Olivia crept closer, seeking comfort from Poppy and Minerva. Severus was closed off– cold. "There is work to be done," the Headmaster said. Dumbledore started spitting out orders to the entire red-headed family, Minerva and Poppy as well. Her head was spinning and she was nauseous. Surely, Severus hadn't just condemned himself by showing his Mark.

"And now," Dumbledore said, gaining Olivia's attention, "it is time for two of our people to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form." The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man. Olivia lept back with a yelp.

"Sirius Black!" someone had yelled. Olivia seemed like the name carried some weight, but she certainly had never heard it before. She looked to Severus to see his reaction.

Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror. "Him!" he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"

Olivia whimpered at his cold fury.

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

Olivia was confused. Obviously, there was a history between the two men, perhaps she'd be able to learn more about it later? She eyed the other wizard, he appeared to be about Severus' age. Perhaps they were classmates.

Dumbledore tried his best to decrease any tension between the men, informing them they must shake hands, giving off the illusion of two boys that had gotten in trouble for a fight and had gotten sent to the Principal's office. She assumed that wasn't very far off. Very slowly — but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill — the man and Severus moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.

"That will do for now," said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. He had finished assigning different duties to everyone else, saving Severus for last. Evidently, whatever was going on, she was not to be a part of it– she had been overlooked and not offered an assignment.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape. Olivia's eyes darted to him. He had yet to even acknowledge her. Fresh tears poured from her face as she listened to the devastating news. "You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…"

For a millisecond, Severus' eyes locked with hers dark and foreboding. "I am," he said, cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

"Then good luck." Dumbledore put a fatherly hand on his shoulder and squeezed, a small, sad smile crossed his lips as Severus turned quickly and stalked down the hallway. Olivia started to run after him, only to be stopped by Dumbledore. Gone was the angry wizard; she was stopped by the twinkling old man she had grown to trust.

"You must let him leave, my dear. He has a job to do."

"But–"

Dumbledore grabbed her shoulders gently, rubbing a thumb over them in a fatherly way as he looked into her tear-filled eyes.

"He can't ever love you."

XOX

Severus made his way to the gates, knees weak and hands trembling. He was ready. He had prepared for this moment for the past 14 years. He knew the Dark Lord would return. He knew he'd have to remain his loyal servant. With the drama behind him, he was able to focus on his Mark. It was pulsing, he wasn't sure how Karkaroff would survive– if the Dark Lord hadn't already killed him, surely he'd turn his wand on himself to avoid the pain.

He crossed the gates and pulled up his sleeve. With a cleansing breath, he touched the tip of his wand to the wriggling snake and felt the tug behind his belly button as he disapparated to his Master.

Severus immediately heard a pop and had to hold on a scream. Someone had kicked the side of his knee, rupturing ligaments and forcing him to the ground, a wand pointed at his throat as they grabbed a handful of his hair. An eerie, disembodied chuckle came from somewhere within the dark house. Severus looked down at the ground, counting the cracks in the dusty tile as he attempted to calm his nerves. Nervous energy would only get him killed.

"Ah, Severus," he heard a hissing noise and the quiet slapping of bare feet. "How nice of you to finally join us."

"My Lord," Severus genuflected, keeping his face flat on the floor until he was told otherwise.

"I do hope, my pet, that you have prepared yourself for a long evening? We have much to discuss."

Severus remained perfectly still, clearing his mind…controlling his emotions as he hardened his Occlumency shields. He was getting fatigued, he hadn't had to maintain this level of control in over a decade. But he couldn't give in, couldn't surrender, there was too much at stake.

"Look at me, pet."

Severus raised his head, looking at the man for the first time. What he saw was repulsive. This was no Tom Riddle. No. This man had glowing red eyes, darker than the fresh blood he had spilt. He lacked a nose, and other human qualities. Severus was terrified but didn't let it show. With a hissed curse, everything went black.

"Crucio!"