A/N: This excerpt is set to take place during the 1977-78 school year, where Lily and Severus would both be in their seventh year, and my OC, Rose – Lily's younger sister – would be in her sixth. Context: Rose and Severus have pledged to work covertly to take down Voldemort, without involving themselves in the Order. Over the winter holiday, the both of them are involved in a battle at the Ministry. Back at school, Dumbledore asks Rose, like Lily, to pledge her allegiance to the Order. But Rose has other plans . . . Dark/grey Dumbledore.

(Submitted for Quidditch League Tournament, season 10. Beater 2: The Stand – resisting authority/institution; optional prompts (5) older sibling/younger sibling, (7) finding out you have a new power, and (13) red.) **TW: violation of boundaries (via Occlumency), light profanity, and slight sexual innuendo; rated T just to be safe**

After a moment's hesitation, Rose forced herself to knock on the ornate oak doors. Yet, before her knuckles could make contact with the wood, the voice of the headmaster bade her to enter.

She had no choice in the matter now, as the doors swung inward to reveal the old wizard sitting expectantly behind his desk, fingers laced together and eyes gazing over half-moon spectacles.

Rose steeled herself in an instant, striding confidently towards the single chair that sat before the desk. She did not sit, though, but rather stood beside it and waited for the headmaster to speak. When he did not, Rose relented and sat stiffly on the edge of the chair.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Ah, Ms. Evans. You are, in fact, the second Evans to sit in that chair today. Have you spoken with your sister at all?" On the surface, his tone was light, perhaps even pleasant. But there was something else – Rose could feel it in his gaze. It was an innocent question, but nevertheless one that was asked with other intentions.

At first Rose was tempted to spit back some spiteful answer about how, nowadays, she kept radically different company from her sister – and that whom she chose to associate with was none of his business. However, her mind almost immediately and instinctively suppressed that thought with a darkened void. It was too dangerous. It revealed far too much.

"I have not spoken with my sister today, no," she answered simply.

The headmaster appeared unfazed, though she could detect a subtle hint of disappointment from him.

"I see. In light of recent events at the Ministry this past holiday – of which I am certain you are aware – I have been meeting with a handful of particularly bright students to discuss, ah, career aspirations. Your sister was one of them. Tell me, Ms. Evans, what do you intend to do after leaving Hogwarts?"

Rose hesitated for a moment, gazing around the headmaster's office while attempting to discern the more subtle and unspoken implications of his question. Her gaze settled on a white stallion, with a distinctive black mark on his flank, that appeared to graze contently in the grassy field in the painting to the left of Dumbledore. After some time, she decided on an answer and returned her gaze to the headmaster.

"I will attend a muggle university for four years to study physics, as I believe there are significant contributions to be made to the Department of Mystery's studies of time, space, and dimensional travel," she repeated from memory.

"That is all very good. But what do you see yourself doing about the war, Ms. Evans. After all, it has already encroached upon your life."

Rose sighed dramatically.

"Yes, I am aware. I do intend to resist the blood-purity movement at every turn, but I do not particularly desire to insert myself into the middle of it by becoming an Auror or the like."

Dumbledore gave a small huff of frustration at her ambivalence. Clearly, this was not the answer he wanted.

"Rose," he said, using her name for the first time. "I believe that when you elected to place yourself in the Slytherin house six years ago, you gave up any pretense at ambivalence. You are at the heart of this conflict whether you would like to acknowledge it or not. Please, if you will, drop the facade of ambivalence so that we may speak openly. After all, people have already died to protect you."

At this last statement, the girl accordingly bowed her head.

"Yes, sir. I am sorry for my flippancy. You are right."

"I was hoping you would see it that way. Today I asked your sister to join a fledgling resistance group that has formed in response to the recent attack on the Ministry. She joined immediately."

"And you would like me to do the same," said Rose, finishing his thought.

"Yes, I very much would."

"I will not come of age for another two months, though, sir," she said.

"I am aware, Ms. Evans. But the war will not wait for that. Already you have been in two battles. Voldemort will not wait for that."

Rose flinched at the name. Not because he had said it – she had done so plenty of times – but because she could hear the suggestion behind those words. She raised her gaze to meet Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes.

It was so subtle that if she hadn't been fully alert, she would have missed it. Like the shadow of a bird flying far overhead, a ghost of a presence crossed her mind. She suppressed a gasp as her mental shields slammed into place. In another instant, the presence was gone. Dumbledore continued.

"Does he know?"

Her heart slammed in her chest.

"Does who know, sir?"

"Voldemort. Does he know of your intended deception?"

How? was the only thought that echoed through her mind. Her shields – were they not strong enough?

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about, sir. What deception?" She feigned confusion, moving that feeling into the front of her consciousness so that even she believed it was true.

A dark shadow seemed to pass over the headmaster's face as the presence once again brushed her mind.

But this time it lingered.

It stopped to examine the trees at the edge of the dark forest that Rose used as her mental shield.

Then there was pain.

The presence walked into the forest, but was immediately met with a wall of underbrush thick with thorns. It hesitated for an instant before deciding to push its way through, snapping branches as it went.

Rose closed her eyes against the pain and concentrated on slowing her breathing. She could not let him break through. It took every ounce of her energy to suppress the panic that lay just below the surface – the panic that, if she permitted herself to feel, would allow her attacker access to every single thought that had ever crossed her mind. When she and Severus had practiced occlumency, she had never successfully crafted the false memory paths that he seemed to do so easily. In fact, she had only successfully expelled him from her mind a handful of times. Now, there was no other option but to resist.

As she slowed her breathing, the head-splitting pain subsided into a dull pounding. The presence did not move deeper into her shield, but stood still, caught in the brambled thicket. She focused on it, feeling herself in each of the tendrils that had ensnared the invader. Slowly, every so slowly, she pushed it back. It struggled at first – so much so that Rose feared it would overcome her efforts. In the end, though, it acquiesced to her pushing and vanished at the edge of the trees.

Rose opened her eyes to meet the bright blue ones that stared back at her, unblinking. She was covered in a cold sweat and had dug her fingernails into the wood of the arms of the chair. Her head felt as if it had been pummeled by a rogue Bludger.

"Impressive. Most impressive," murmured Dumbledore without batting an eye. "It would be a pity if that power of yours were to fall into the wrong hands."

Rose wanted to scream at him, curse him for having invaded her privacy in such a dismissive manner. How dare he!

Yet, all fight was gone from her. She wanted now only to cry.

"I will not be joining you, sir. Not now, not ever."

"Pity," said Dumbledore. "I invite you to rethink your decision, Ms. Evans. A time will come when the walls of this castle will no longer protect you. And when it does, you will want to be on the right side of the fray."

Rose only glowered in his direction.

"For now, though, you are dismissed. I expect that you know not to speak of this meeting to anyone. I would obliviate you but for the fact that I wish you to think further on my offer."

She rose and turned to go, forcing herself to stand poised and strong – to hide from him the damage he had caused.

"And Rose," the headmaster added before she reached the door. "Do give Severus my regards."

She shot him a final loathing look before slipping out through the doors.

oOo

How had he known? How did he know of the dangerous path she and Severus had decided on? That was what he was alluding to, wasn't it? What else would he have meant by "intended deception"? But how? They had been so bloody careful. Every step they took. The journals. The maps. The meetings in the Forest. How had he found out?

Her feet automatically carried her in the direction of the Entrance Hall as her mind sought to unravel what had just transpired. It was by chance that she stumbled into a group of second years staring intently at the cluster of paintings between which a white stallion was racing a camel.

"Sorry," said Rose as she picked herself up. The timid Hufflepuff just moved closer to the group, drawing Rose's gaze up towards the portraits on the wall. A white stallion, with a distinctive black mark on his flank, was raising between paintings. Indeed, it was the same one that she had seen in Dumbledore's office a short time ago.

Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it earlier? He was using the portraits to spy on them! That had to be how he had known about her and Severus's plan.

Rose was nearing panic as she slowed her steps and forced herself to walk back to the dungeons. She needed to find Severus.

oOo

She knocked at the door but did not bother waiting for an answer. Severus spent most of his time at a small desk in the corner of his dormitory now that N.E.W.T.s were on the horizon. He was there now, hunched over with hair curtaining his face and nose to parchment, startling only when Rose stomped into view.

Rose ignored his questioning look, striding past him to the far wall where there was a portrait of a lady and her attendant. She nearly laughed when she saw that the wealthier woman sat at a desk, quill poised over parchment as if preparing to transcribe their conversation. Rose promptly removed it from the wall and threw it out of the dormitory, casting muffliato for good measure.

"Rose, what the hell – "

Severus didn't get a chance to finish, as Rose was dragging him towards his bed. She forced him to sit and drew the curtains around them. His confusion immediately gave way to a deep flush of red that was startlingly unnatural when compared to his usual pallor. Rose ignored it and settled down opposite him.

"He knows."

"Who? Who knows?" Severus was suddenly fatally serious. "Not the Dark Lord?" he hissed. Rose shook her head.

"No, the other one, though."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

"How? How do you know he knows?"

"The portraits, Sev! The bloody portraits! I can't believe we were so stupid. Did you ever consider why he has so many in his office?"

"No. Considering the last time I was in there was right after Black tried to kill me, I wasn't exactly looking at the pictures on the walls," he said, darkly sarcastic. Rose flashed him a sympathetic look but continued.

"I'm almost positive that he's been watching us through them. At least where we go and who we're with. I don't know how much he's overheard, though."

"Well, we were right for meeting in the Forest, then."

"Yes, thank the gods."

"You must have spoken with him tonight?"

Rose nodded, grimacing inwardly at the pounding behind her eyes.

"Yes. Perkins delivered the message to me at dinner. He – Dumbledore – asked to meet with me."

"And?" Severus cocked an eyebrow.

"And, as to be expected, it was about joining his resistance movement. He said he had called Lily in earlier today and she had pledged her loyalty to the cause."

"And he wanted you to do the same?"

Rose nodded.

"And you denied him," Severus said flatly.

"Yes, I did," she responded shrilly.

"I thought we agreed that you joining was a necessary evil," he hissed.

"I told you and him that I'm not going to be joining anything until I'm of age!" she hissed back.

"But will he offer this to you again, Rose? What if this was our only chance?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. A long while passed before she answered.

"Honestly, I don't know. I didn't exactly leave the best impression."

Severus snorted.

"With him? I don't blame you. But – "

"Yes, I know, Severus," she snapped.

"Fine. We'll have to – "

At that moment, the both of them froze as they heard someone approaching the dormitory along with vague grumblings about why there was a tattered painting in the hall.

"We'll talk later," said Rose, nodding at Severus before climbing off the bed and slipping between the curtains.

She reached the door just as Thistlewaite opened it. A look of incredulity and shock plastered his face.

"Thistlewaite," said Rose, glaring at him.

"Evans," he scowled in return.

She brushed past him and was gone, kicking the portrait for good measure.

"Blimey, Snape! I didn't know you two were going at it," said the silver-haired boy after closing the door. "Don't worry though, I won't tell Mulciber you're seeing the Mudblood," he added quickly.

"Oh, shut up!"

Severus returned his attention to the parchments that covered the desk, careful to let his hair hide his face and the redness that gathered there.