Chapter 74

Albus glanced at the clock again. It was almost three in the morning, and there was still no sign of Remus. Not even a message cancelling the appointment or informing him of difficulties to apparate anywhere near Hogwarts. Albus hadn't been too confident that he would be able to come at the agreed time, while the boy was still out there, but he had expected at least some form of communication, or perhaps a late arrival once the coast was clear from champions. Harry and his allies must have all gone to sleep by now, though, so the Goblet should no longer have reason to object to a werewolf's presence on the grounds, and yet Remus had still to show up or send word explaining his delay.

Had something happened? Some incident with Greyback and the other werewolves? Remus had been unusually vague in his last reports, holding back details for some reason, but he had implied there was some sort of dominance struggle going on in the pack, serious enough for several werewolves to have died, and while he had assured Albus that he in particular was safe he had also said it would take several moons for things to settle. His last message confirming tonight's appointment had been only a few days ago, so at the very least Remus had survived the last full moon, but he could have been overpowered in human form, even if he was more qualified as a wizard than his fellow werewolves. Perhaps he had been ambushed in his sleep and disarmed? Taken unawares and outnumbered by some unfriendly faction?

Or was he simply having trouble reaching his office? Had the Goblet realized what Albus was trying to do and was acting to prevent it? Attempting to orchestrate a casual encounter between a werewolf and the champions had been risky, but Albus' hadn't dropped dead nor had had difficulty dispatching the invitation so he had thought Remus might be able to come, especially since Remus wasn't aware of anything and would not be coming with the intention of helping Harry. Had Albus been out-witted by the Goblet? Had he taken his plotting too far and ruined the chance of using a familiar werewolf in the task?

A soft chiming signalled his patience had finally reached the three hours mark, which was as much time as Albus had decided to wait before giving up and going to bed. He knew he would not be able to fall asleep, though, not without knowing for sure that Remus wasn't coming, worrying about what might have happened to him and about what this might mean for Harry and the other champions. Would they think to prepare for a werewolf if no one clue them in? The Third Task was scheduled on a full moon, set to start exactly at the change of phase, so it was rather obvious, but Albus feared it would not occur to any of them to check the lunar calendar. Even if they knew the moon would be full the night of the task, they might not realize the significance of such coincidence, just as Severus didn't seem to have realized yet. It was not guaranteed that coming across Remus would open their minds to the possibility, but Albus had hoped...

After three hours, he knew it was pointless to keep waiting, but it was equally pointless to try his luck at sleeping, so in the end Albus decided to go for a walk, thinking it might be worth checking the gates and the Whomping Willow passage —perhaps Remus was being retained by the Goblet just outside the boundaries, waiting for Albus to wise up and meet him halfway. Or he might have left a message in the Shrieking Shack. Or, why not? He might have arrived hours ago and lost track of time talking with Harry somewhere outside, perhaps stayed to watch him fly or train with his friends.

Albus had known the latter possibility was almost certainly wishful thinking, but he had allowed himself to hope a little, and so he was disappointed when the grounds appeared to be completely deserted. He made his way towards the lake and watched the sky for a few minutes, scanned the distant shores and nearby woods, but there was no sign of the champions, no spell-fire nor curious blue flames brightening the darkness. Of course they must be all already asleep, Harry and Cedric inside the castle and Mr. Krum and Miss Delacour in their respective abodes, likely none of them dreaming of werewolves.

Sighing despondently, Albus turned his back on the lake and redirected his steps towards the Whomping Willow, but he came to a stop again a few yards away when something moving in the distance caught his eye. At first he thought it might be one of the maze caretakers going to check on the hedges —those French landscapers took their jobs very seriously—, but then he realized the figure was moving towards the greenhouses rather than the Quidditch pitch, and closer observation allowed him to recognize Pomona's familiar gait. Of course. Tonight was a new moon, and there were plants that must be pruned or repotted in this particular phase, when they were at their less aggressive.

"Ah, Dumbledore," she greeted him when he approached her. "I was just thinking about going to talk to you, but I wasn't sure if you would be awake at this hour."

Albus raised his eyebrow curiously.

"Well, it's fortunate we crossed paths, then," he said pleasantly. "What did you need to discuss so late at night?"

"Potter," said Pomona, looking suddenly conflicted. "I found the boy sleeping in one of the greenhouses. No idea how he got in, I could swear I had locked the door, and you know I only use Spanish charms in my greenhouses."

Albus chuckled.

"Harry seems to have a knack for picking up spells," he nodded. "And I believe Miss Delacour is well versed in Romance Charms. Filius has mentioned it a few times."

Pomona snorted.

"More like a thousand times," she said, rolling her eyes before getting serious again. "However he got in, the fact is that Harry Potter is currently sleeping over a pile of mulch, and I'm not sure what to do about it. I was about to wake him up, but he's so deeply asleep, and Minerva said he's been having nightmares again after Crouch... I'm not in the habit of letting students sleep in the greenhouses, but there's nothing really dangerous in there, and you said we should all look the other way..."

It was plainly difficulty for Pomona to turn a blind eye to any rule-breaking that might threaten her plants, but Harry had become something of a soft spot for her. She had always been fond of the boy, and she had liked him even better since Neville had replaced Ronald Weasley in his group of friends, but it had been Cedric's inclusion in the alliance what had proclaimed him an honorary Hufflepuff in her book. Such inclusion had caused a lot of trouble in Hufflepuff House, but despite the extra-work and stress Pomona felt nothing but gratefulness towards Harry, who as usual was bearing the brunt of the public ostracism resulting from his good intentions.

Albus could see in Pomona's eyes that if it were for her she would let the boy sleep undisturbed in his pile of mulch until midday, and any other night he would have supported and even encouraged such decision, but on this particular night he was predisposed to look at anything strange with suspicion. And it was a strange coincidence that Harry had decided to sleep in a greenhouse the same night that Remus was supposed to come to Hogwarts. The boy only behaved so abnormally when he was in shock, so perhaps he had realized that he might have to face a transformed werewolf in the maze? Could it be that Remus had come, but had changed his mind about meeting with Albus after talking with Harry? Perhaps he had noticed that the Third Task coincided with the next full moon, put two and two together, and made himself scarce before Albus could ask something so terrible of him?

"I dare say Harry was too tired to drag himself all the way up Gryffindor tower," he finally said. "But he would be much more comfortable sleeping in his own bed, I'm sure. If you would direct me to his current accommodations, I will escort Mr. Potter back to his dorm myself."

Despite her sympathy for the youngest champion, Pomona looked relieved by his decision, and gladly led the way to the greenhouse in question. When they got there, however, the sight of Harry sleeping so peacefully on his pile of mulch made Albus hesitate, knowing how precious every minute of undisturbed rest was for a person plagued by nightmares. He was struck by how young the boy looked in this vulnerable state, how innocent and helpless, so small and frail compared to a werewolf-

Albus shook his head to himself, firmly pushing away his guilty thoughts. He could never carry on if he allowed himself to see every person as a victim. Not everyone could be saved, not every child could be protected, and caring about this boy in particular was setting himself up for certain heartbreak. Besides, Harry wasn't nearly as helpless and frail as he seemed now. Awake and with a wand in his hand, glaring people down with eyes hard as emeralds, he gave an impression of strength rather than weakness, and much like Severus no one would dare to think he was a victim of anything.

He also bore a dangerous resemblance to Alastor, thought Albus grimly when he tried to nudge the boy awake and immediately had to dodge a wordless Stunning Spell.

"It's all right, Harry," he said soothingly, raising a subtle shield between them just in case. "We mean you no harm. There is no danger."

Pomona's wary expression begged to differ, but she didn't say anything out loud.

Lowering his wand, the boy sat up awkwardly and looked around, groggy and confused. He put on his glasses when Albus handed them to him, and met his gaze briefly before turning to Pomona, looking suddenly guilty and fearful.

"I... I'm sorry, Professor," he mumbled. "I didn't touch any plants, I swear, and I made sure there was nothing carnivorous before falling asleep."

"It's all right, Mr. Potter," said Pomona, her eyes softening. "I will ask you not to share that unlocking charm with anyone, though, especially not with the Weasley twins."

"I won't," assured her Harry. "I'm sorry for breaking in, I just..."

The boy trailed off when he met Albus' gaze again, fear flickering in his green eyes before hastily averting them, his expression closing off so abruptly that Albus wondered if he had been taking Occlumency lessons from his Bulgarian ally. Having recently learned that both Voldemort and Severus were powerful Legilimens, and having experienced a mental attack from Albus himself, it would make perfect sense if Harry had developed an interest in Occlumency, and Mr. Krum could have at least taught him the basics, simple techniques to guard his thoughts and forestall intruders.

The question was why he felt the need to protect his mind now. Why he suddenly seemed afraid to meet Albus' gaze, when only two weeks ago he had trusted him enough to not avoid his eyes while they talked. Was Harry keeping some critical secret, like the Gillyweed before the Second Task? Had Severus made another attempt at cheating? Or was this about Remus?

Albus mulled over these concerns as he escorted the boy back to the castle. It was his duty as a judge to prevent cheating, so if he suspected a champion was doing something the Goblet would not approve of he should investigate and put an end to it. On the other hand, cheating was supposed to be impossible, and unlike the Dobby incident in February this time the Goblet had not manifested its displeasure in any way, so Harry must be officially innocent —at least for the moment. It would probably be wise to investigate, but Albus didn't have any concrete reason to think anyone was trying to cheat so he wasn't obligated to do anything. O was he? He wasn't sure. Probably not, but perhaps he should...

He definitely wanted to ask about Remus, verify whether the boy had seen him tonight or not, but to his frustration the Goblet was holding his tongue. He couldn't mention the werewolf nor make reference to him, not even try to bring it up indirectly by asking about Sirius or alluding to the scar incident last summer. Subjects he had been able to discuss freely with Harry two weeks ago were now restricted, ever since that gloomy day when the word 'werewolf' had come out of the Goblet. Albus supposed he might be able to talk about those subjects if he had no ulterior motive, but some portion of his mind was always hoping to inadvertently slip Harry a clue so he couldn't even open his mouth.

"Is he gone?" asked Harry suddenly, not looking at him as they approached the castle doors.

Albus' heart skipped a beat.

"Who, Harry?" he asked, keeping his voice calm and neutral.

"Professor Lupin. Is he gone?"

Thoughts and questions swirled inside his mind. So Remus had come, and he had interacted with the boy in some way. Also, the fact that Harry was asking Albus whether the man had already departed suggested that Remus had intended to keep his appointment. Had they missed each other? How long had Harry been asleep in the greenhouse? Could Remus be waiting in his office right now?

There were a dozen different questions on the tip of his tongue, but the Goblet was making extremely difficult to voice them, blocking every formulation Albus came up with. He couldn't mention his prospective meeting with a werewolf either, but it would be suspicious not to answer Harry's question so there must be something he could say about the subject.

"I understand he had things to do tonight," he finally offered, evasive but truthful enough. "Did you wish to see him again before he went away?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe. It doesn't matter now."

Albus didn't manage to inquire any further about Remus, and Harry didn't volunteer anything else on his own accord, so the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower was spent mostly in silence. It was rather unsettling, to walk alongside Harry without being constantly bombarded by difficult questions, but the boy didn't seem to be in a mood to talk tonight, his usual curiosity absent or repressed for some reason. He seemed angry, actually, but when Albus asked him if anything had upset him the boy denied being upset —even though he was visibly seething—, and he rejected all attempts to engage him in small talk as well.

By the time they came to a stop in front of the Fat Lady, Albus was feeling definitely frustrated and even a little hurt by the boy's determined aloofness.

"Have you been getting along better with Professor Snape, after our last talk?" he tried as a last resort, hoping to at least trigger some sort of reaction.

Harry met his gaze for the first time since the greenhouse, his eyes flashing with unmistakable anger.

"I don't want to talk about Snape," he spat, turning away before his expression could betray anything else. "May I go now? It's really late, and I have classes early."

Albus sighed. Harry was going to be a nightmare to deal with as a teenager. If he survived. His attitude was already too reminiscent of Severus' at his surliest.

"Yes, you may go, Harry," he said tiredly. "Good night."

"Good night," said the boy curtly before disappearing through the portrait hole.

As he strolled across the sleeping castle in the opposite direction, Albus replayed Harry's behaviour and words in his mind, trying to figure out what might have put the boy in such a bad mood. Had he argued with Remus? Harry had seemed disappointed to learn that Remus had been in Little Whinging last summer and not made contact, so perhaps he had called him out on that?

Or had they argued about Severus? Albus had thought Harry would soften a little towards his Potions teacher after their last conversation, especially after watching the memory of his trial, but he had seemed angry as ever tonight, so perhaps the encounter with Remus had undone whatever goodwill the boy might have been willing to entertain towards the Death Eater. It was unlikely Remus would have argued against Severus, on the contrary, but meeting with him would have reminded Harry that it had been Severus who had exposed his favourite teacher last year, forcing the werewolf to resign. If they had talked about Sirius, he would have been reminded as well of the torture his godfather had recently endured, and of Severus' attempt last year to deliver him to the dementors. More than enough remembrances to rekindle the boy's animosity.

It made Albus sad to see no improvement in Harry and Severus' relationship, but perhaps it was for the best, as Severus was less likely to try to interfere again before the Third Task if he was blinded by hate, and Harry was less likely to endanger Severus' cover if he hated him for real. A good relationship between Harry and Severus could actually prove catastrophic, which was why until two weeks ago Albus had never really tried to make peace between them, allowing each to keep their prejudices against the other and even promoting their mutual dislike on occasion.

Sad, but necessary to a certain degree.

It wasn't Harry and Severus' complicated relationship what concerned him now, though. He also didn't want to think about Harry's relationship with Remus, much as he was counting on it, since that whole subject filled him with all sorts of guilts. What Albus itched to know was whether Harry and the other champions had figured out what the most dangerous threat in the maze would be. Was that why the boy had avoided his eyes tonight? Was he afraid it would be considered cheating if they knew ahead of time what they would be facing?

He had hoped to get some answers from Remus, but to his disappointment the werewolf wasn't waiting in his office at his return, and the gargoyle assured him no one had tried to get past it in his absence. Nearby portraits confirmed the seventh floor corridor had remained completely deserted during the time he had been gone.

Albus was puzzled. Harry had seen Remus tonight, so the man had been in Hogwarts, and the boy had seemed to believe Albus would see him too before he went away so Remus must have told him he was here to meet with the Headmaster. Had Remus changed his mind on the way to his office? Perhaps the realization hadn't hit him until after he had parted ways with Harry? Could he still be somewhere inside the castle or out in the grounds, struggling with the inner turmoil caused by such suspicion?

"Bitsy!" called Albus.

The senior elf chosen as representative of the Hogwarts elves appeared with a pop in front of him.

"Yes, Headmaster?" she asked excitedly.

"Bitsy, I would like to know if Remus Lupin, our former DADA teacher, has been seen or sensed inside the castle tonight. You might recall he's a werewolf, so you might have felt his presence even if he wasn't visible."

The elf frowned thoughtfully.

"Bitsy didn't see nor feel any dark creatures tonight, sir," she said. "But I is can ask the other elves, if master wishes so."

"Yes, please," said Albus. "Make inquiries and report back to me as soon as you may. Thank you."

Bitsy was back in less than ten minutes, which must be a record time for the interrogation of hundreds of house-elves.

"Headmaster!" squeaked the overly enthusiastic creature when she reappeared. "No one has seen nor sensed the werewolf teacher, but Topy, Scully and Tilly say they were called earlier. We is not allowed to answer calls from outsiders, so they didn't go, but they are sure it was former Professor Lupin." Bitsy wringed her hands nervously. "Do Topy, Scully and Tilly have to punish themselves for not answering the call, sir?"

"No, no, of course not," rushed to say Albus. "No one is to be punished. Remus Lupin is no longer a member of staff, so ignoring his calls is the correct thing to do." He thought for a moment. "I would like to be informed at once if someone unauthorized tries to summon any of you, however. We must be more vigilant, especially after what happened to Winky."

The nervousness in Bitsy's huge eyes was replaced by a fierce determination. Winky hadn't been too well liked amongst her peers, because of her drinking habit and reluctance to work, but she had been a Hogwarts elf nonetheless —unlike Dobby, who hadn't been properly bonded—, so most elves had taken her mysterious disappearance as a personal affront.

"Bitsy will pass along the instruction, sir," she vowed. "Master will be informed if an outsider calls us. Bitsy is also making sure no one unauthorized enters the kitchens. The doors are closed to anyone other than teachers and Mr. Filch, no students allowed anymore."

Albus nodded absently. He hadn't wanted to enforce that restriction, knowing that many students visited the kitchens to ask for snacks between meals, but being a possibility that the mole in their midst was a student —or someone posing as a student— he felt he had to offer the elves some protection from them.

As to Remus' attempt to summon Hogwarts elves... why would he do that? Perhaps he had wanted to take some food with him when he left, and finding the kitchens closed had tried to call specific elves? Food hardly seemed like a priority in the present situation, though, and besides Remus must have known his teacher privileges had been revoked when he had quitted his job, rendering the action of answering his call punishable for any Hogwarts elf. Remus wouldn't put the elves in that position just to get some free food. Perhaps if he needed to send an urgent message to Albus, yes, but he had his Patronus for that, not to mention that he could have spoken to him in person, being both in the same castle.

Unless the Goblet was stopping him, making impossible for him to approach the seventh floor or to send his Patronus ahead for some indiscernible reason.

Could Remus still be somewhere around, his movements restricted by his newfound realization as well as by his desire to help Harry?

"Where did the summons come from?" he asked. "Could Topy and the others locate the source of the call?"

Bitsy didn't know, so Albus sent her to find out. When she returned a few minutes later, she looked somewhat paler, and she hesitated to speak as if she feared being punished for it. Such change in demeanour gave Albus a very bad feeling, some part of him guessing what the answer would be before it consciously occurred to him.

"They said the call came from the Slytherin quarters, sir," whispered the elf, her eyes wide and fearful.

Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"When was this?" he asked calmly, even though he felt anything but calm. "How long ago?"

"Tilly and Topy said it was a while after midnight, and Scully said he was cleaning the second floor bathroom when he felt the call, so Bitsy thinks one or two hours ago, sir."

Over an hour ago. Remus had been inside Severus' private quarters, desperate enough to call house-elves that couldn't answer his call, deprived of his wand judging by the fact that he hadn't dispatched his Patronus instead, over an hour ago. Right after meeting with Harry, so he likely had been there knowing about the Tournament and suspecting he would be invited to participate of the Third Task. Had he shared his suspicions with Severus? Perhaps he had gone there to ask for confirmation? Had Severus already killed him? Albus couldn't imagine another possible outcome of that conversation. Regardless of his current allegiance, even if he no longer cared about Harry, Severus wouldn't have reacted well to the news that Remus might be trapped in a maze with four children during the full moon.

Was there any point in flooing down there now? If it was already done, there was nothing Albus could do except confront Severus about it, and what good would that do? Severus would get defensive, Albus would get angry, harsh words and threats would fly around... and Remus would remain dead. Only more alienation and mistrust could result from such confrontation, so perhaps it would be wiser to look the other way, pretend he didn't know, obliviate the elves to make sure this never came to light and try to forget about it himself as well.

What if Remus was still alive, though? It seemed unlikely, but there was a chance. After all, Severus must understand that killing Remus would not solve the problem, since Albus could simply find another werewolf to put inside the maze, and he might realize as well that Remus would be more useful alive than dead in the war to come. Severus hadn't exactly been in a mood to be reasonable lately, true, and he might see this as a perfect opportunity and excuse to slay the werewolf that had haunted his dreams since he was a student, but Albus knew that Remus' death would haunt his dreams too.

Perhaps Severus had let him go with just a warning? Threaten to kill him if he was anywhere near Hogwarts during the next full moon and sent him on his way? Remus might be long gone by now, determined not to contact Albus again until the Tournament was over.

Or he might be in desperate need of assistance, trapped in Severus' quarters with a deranged Death Eater who had been spiralling down into darkness since Sirius had bitten him after the Second Task.

Albus considered sending Bitsy as a scout, to discreetly find out if there was more than one living presence currently residing inside the Slytherin quarters, but he knew it would be futile. Severus had threatened the Hogwarts elves with the most unspeakable consequences if they dared to invade his private space or spy on him, and somehow all the elves knew he had been behind Dobby's disappearance so his threats were taken very seriously. All Albus could achieve by commanding Bitsy to go anywhere near Severus' personal quarters was to force her to choose between disobeying her master or defying a terrifying dark wizard, and it was a given she would choose self-punishment over excruciating torture.

He sighed.

It seemed he would have to find out for himself.

Albus had been fervently hoping for the best, but instead his worst fears were confirmed when he stepped out of the fireplace and his eyes took in the destruction around him. Severus' elegant sitting room, usually clean and orderly to a compulsive degree, looked like a warzone now, debris from some explosion scattered all around, a splintered door half-hanging from its hinges, blood trails as if a wounded person had dragged herself across the room.

Whatever had happened here, though, it was long over. The dust had settled, those blood stains on the ancient carpet had been absorbed beyond hope of magical cleaning, and the whole place was eerily still and quiet, like a battlefield after the bodies had been removed.

Pulling out his wand, Albus stepped over a piece of rubble and cautiously crept forward, reading the patterns of blood and destruction as he went in an attempt to understand how events had developed. It looked like the conflict might have started in Severus' private lab and progressed in this direction, the blood suggesting Remus had been injured and likely running from a murderous Potions Master.

Albus followed the blood trail to Severus' bedchamber first, frowning at the mess inside —the room had been turned upside down, even the mattress ripped apart as if someone had been searching for some hidden object. The main bathroom also seemed to have suffered some damage, the mirror over the sink broken and several tiles removed to reveal a hidden cavity above the toilet.

The real shock, though, was Severus' study. All the furniture was gone, there were books scattered on the floor, more rubble from another hole on the wall, and a large pool of blood that didn't bore well for the person who had lost it.

By this point Albus was regrettably certain that Remus was dead, but the blood trail didn't end here, so he braced himself to follow the traces of life to its sad conclusion.

He found himself doubting such merciful conclusion a few moments later, however, when the blood pattern disappeared behind a closed door at the end of the hallway. An ominous door that he knew led to what had once been Salazar Slytherin's personal torture chamber.

Albus took a deep breath.

There were no sounds coming from the room, but that didn't mean nothing was happening inside. Albus could sense Severus' magic spread all over the door, so he knew there were wards in place, at least one of them dark, and possibly a muffling charm to keep the screams contained. Assuming there would be screaming. Assuming Remus was still alive in there.

What to do? After casting a quick diagnostic spell to ascertain it was safe to touch the door, Albus placed his left hand over the wood, closing his eyes to focus on the different layers of magic warding it. To his chagrin, the first layer turned out to be an Intruder Charm in disguise, a clever trick that Albus had failed to detect from a distance and that was instantly triggered when he touched the door, no doubt alerting Severus of his presence. Which was of course the purpose of such charm: forewarning. To give the Death Eater inside time enough to dispose of any evidence —including Remus' body— while Albus was occupied trying to dismantle the other wards.

There was no getting rid of all the evidence spattering the rest of Severus' private quarters, though. Nor of the evidence in his wand. Albus was counting on Severus knowing this, and not bothering to deny the obvious, as he lifted his hand and simply knocked at the door.

Silent seconds ticked by without any indication that his call had been heard or heeded. Was Severus going to make this difficult?

Albus knocked again.

"Open the door, Severus," he said in his most authoritative voice. "Now."

More silence. For the first time Albus wondered if it would come to a fight. Would he have to remind Severus of his power? Put him in his place by force? Perhaps he should have done it months ago, but he had wanted to avoided it if possible, knowing that using intimidation against Severus could easily backfire. He had hoped the conflicted Death Eater would sort himself out with a bit of time, but it had been too long already, and the man kept growing more defiant and unscrupulous by the day. If Albus was forced to bring down this door-

Before he could finish that thought, there was a sudden shift in the magical atmosphere, and the heavy door creaked open with a hair-raising sound befitting of a medieval torture chamber. It didn't open all the way, though, only enough for Severus to make an appearance in the doorway, standing casually with a light grip on his wand, his stance relaxed but battle-ready.

"Headmaster," greeted the Death Eater coldly. "I believe I told you you are not welcomed into my personal quarters without an invitation."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Albus couldn't help being temporarily distracted by the sight in front of him. Severus was wearing nothing but a pair of dark trousers that hanged low on his hips, the loose fabric doing little to conceal his semi-aroused state. He was completely naked from the waist up, the Dark Mark —angry red and well-defined— clearly visible in his left arm, a sheen of perspiration covering his flushed skin as if he had just been running. The hard planes of his abdomen were spattered with blood, as were his bare feet, and his black eyes seemed darker than ever, with a feverish glint to them that made Albus suspect he was under the influence of some drug.

In a word, Severus looked dangerous, and he looked... Well, he looked hot, as young people liked to say these days. Albus had never seen him without a shirt before, definitely not in a state of arousal, and while he himself was too old to really feel that kind of interest anymore he could admire the sight. No one would ever say Severus Snape was a handsome man, on the contrary, but he certainly was... fit. Tall, and lean, and firm... appealing in a dark sort of way that reminded Albus of Gellert. He wondered how large-

"You know, I could file a complaint of sexual harassment for ogling me like that," drawled Severus, his lip curling with revulsion. "Especially considering that you sneaked into my private rooms at three in the morning to do so. I thought you were only interested in my dirty underwear, but if you've come here hoping for a sniff of the real thing-"

"That is enough, Severus," cut him off Albus, pushing away his indecent thoughts and forcing himself to focus on the more serious matter at hand. "You're hardly in a position to accuse others of inappropriate behaviour."

"I disagree. Anything I do in my private time and space is appropriate, while your behaviour in regards to me borders on creepiness. What would people think, if they knew you're not only a pervert, but one interested exclusively in dark wizards?"

"Enough, Severus," said Albus warningly. "You're over the line."

"Is that why you hate the Dark Lord so much? Did he spurn your creepy advances?" sneered the Death Eater. "He always said you were obsessed with him, were you looking for a rebound after destroying your beloved Grindelwald?"

"ENOUGH!"

Albus felt angrier and more vulnerable than he had felt in decades, exposed and betrayed in a way he hadn't since Gellert, probably. He rued the day when he had made the mistake of confiding his past history to Severus, sharing his own experience with darkness in a rare moment of spiritual closeness. There had existed genuine trust and respect between them back then, even some affection, where had that all gone?

His angry exclamation had been accompanied by a magical lash-out, his powerful aura making itself quite noticeable in the semi-lit hallway, but Severus didn't back down, didn't even flinch, not seeming intimidated in the least. Instead his expression remained scornfully defiant, his stance vibrantly confident, his own powerful aura making itself known as well, dark and strong and threatening.

Albus definitely wasn't dealing with the same wizard he had met at that hilltop fifteen years ago. The young Death Eater that had thrown himself at his feet begging for mercy and help. Severus was no longer that man, he hadn't been since Lily's death, and lately it seemed there might be nothing left of him, no way to bring him back.

Just like that, his anger was gone, replaced by sorrow and a disquieting sense of hopelessness.

He sighed.

"You're out of control, Severus," he said sadly. "There is blood all over your quarters, over your person. You're clearly intoxicated. And I know you're holding Remus Lupin inside that room."

"Like I said, what I do in my private time and space is entirely appropriate, and entirely my own business," said the Potions Master airily. "Much as you might resemble the Dark Lord, Dumbledore, you are not my master. I am not your full-time servant, but your employee, and as such I am entitled to certain rights. Privacy and liberty to spend my free time however it pleases me is one of those rights. I have a right to not have my personal life scrutinized or interfered with. To not have my living quarters regularly searched or invaded by my lecherous employer. To not be disturbed in the middle of the night for reasons not included in my job description. And I am allowed to invite people over if I want to."

"You are not allowed to keep prisoners in your living quarters," said Albus sharply.

"I am not keeping anyone prisoner. Lupin is my personal guest. He is here on his own volition, and I certainly am not forcing him to stay."

"I find that hard to believe," said Albus skeptically, relieved to hear that at least Remus was still alive. "You will release him at once, Severus, and you-"

"Lupin!" called Severus over his shoulder. "The great and mighty Albus Dumbledore has come inquiring after you. He seems to think you're in need of rescue. Do you have anything to contribute to the discussion?"

"I'm fine, Dumbledore!" came Remus' raspy voice from inside the room. "It's true that I'm here by choice. I came to visit Severus, and he invited me for a drink, ended up talking about our schooldays. We had a bit of a misunderstanding back there, but we already sorted it out, we're fine now."

"There you have it," said Severus smugly. "If Lupin wants to be here, he can stay for as long as I'm willing to tolerate him. Or until he chooses to leave. Do you wish to leave, wolf?"

There was a pause, a few seconds of suspense, and then,

"Not just yet," said Remus. "I would rather stay here a while longer, Dumbledore, if you don't mind. Severus and I still have some issues to work through, and I don't know when we will have another opportunity to talk. I'll go by your office as soon as I'm finished here, or we can reschedule our meeting for another day if you prefer."

Albus frowned, not knowing what to do. He was completely sure that Remus had been injured, tortured, possibly even sexually assaulted judging by Severus' sinful appearance. He was probably restrained right now, and he sounded weak, his voice hoarse as if he had screamed his throat off. And yet he said he was fine and wanted to stay. Why?

There were various spells and potions that could make a prisoner choose captivity over freedom, but it didn't sound as if Remus was being magically influenced. Coercion was another matter, the most common method used by Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but what could Severus have threatened him with that Albus couldn't protect him from?

No. Dire as his current predicament might be, it didn't seem as if Remus wanted to be extricated from it, or at least he was choosing to stay when he knew Albus could easily break him free.

Was it because of Harry? Was that the issue they still had to discuss, Remus' possible involvement in the Third Task? It didn't seem as if Severus intended to kill the werewolf, though, nor as if Remus intended to shirk his appointment with Albus, so it might be that neither of them had realized yet that the champions would be roaming the maze during the full moon. This... conflict between the two men might truly be personal business between them, old grudges and misunderstandings that Severus had never before been willing to seriously address, issues that they indeed needed to resolve on their own. Their way of resolving them might be violent, maybe even sexual, but that was almost to be expected from a dark wizard and a werewolf, and if they both chose to go through with it Albus didn't have any valid basis to object. He certainly had no grounds to remove from Severus' quarters someone who proclaimed himself a willing guest, even if he suspected said 'guest' was chained to a wall right now.

"Are you sure you don't require assistance, Remus?" he asked aloud, resisting the urge to push the door open to confirm his suspicions.

"I'm sure, Dumbledore," said the werewolf faintly. "Thank you, though. And I'm sorry for missing the appointment."

"All right, then... I'll wait for you in my office. Come up when you're finished here, no matter how late." Albus hesitated. It went against all his instincts to turn his back on this situation, but it was clear that Remus didn't want his help, and he was pretty sure that Severus would fight him if he tried to get through that door without permission. "Call a house-elf named Bitsy if you change your mind. She'll sense the call even if-"

"In case you haven't noticed, Dumbledore," interrupted Severus with irritation, "you're sort of killing the mood. So unless you have some urgent, school-related matter to discuss, I'll expect you to vacate my private quarters within the next sixty seconds and not return without a damn good justification."

Albus met the dark eyes of his troublesome spy. Severus seemed more clear-headed now, but he was unmistakably intoxicated, and Albus feared he might have more than just alcohol in his system. There were many reasons why Severus getting mixed up in drugs was concerning, practical implications and behavioural risks that might difficult his permanence in Hogwarts, but ultimately what concerned Albus was the truth that it revealed: that the man had stopped caring. Not just about Harry, or about himself, but about his students.

Until last year, and for the previous decade, Severus had been the soberest and most proper person in Hogwarts, never indulging in any vices or indecorous behaviours, well-spoken to a fault, only using Dark Magic in life or death situations or under controlled conditions, strictly abstaining from any recreational substances to the point that he hadn't even taken wine with his meals. Albus had stipulated proper conduct, dark restraint and drug moderation as conditions to hire him, but it had been because of his Slytherins that the man had strived to be an example of sobriety and self-discipline. To be someone they could trust and rely on, whom they could look up to and try to emulate without acquiring any bad habits themselves. Next to Lily —and later Harry—, his students had been Severus' utmost priority, so the fact that he no longer cared about being a good example for them was a definite cause for concern.

What really made Albus uneasy, though, was the utter loathing and odium he could see in his eyes. An expression that reminded him so much of Tom, awakening such a strong sense of déjà vu, that he almost feared Severus might be able to channel his master through the Dark Mark.

So much hatred... It was more than the normal anger and resentment the Potions Master carried always around like an inherent part of his Self. Looking at him then, Albus knew that Severus hated him, truly hated him, just as much, just as personally, and just as viciously as Tom did.

And that was definitely concerning.

Five minutes later, Albus was back in his office, absently stroking Fawkes' head while he tried not to think of what Severus might be doing to Remus down in the dungeons. He particularly didn't want to imagine the sexual possibilities, but his mind seemed intent on conjuring all sorts of images, images that evoked memories, memories that filled him with a longing he should no longer feel at his age. Longing that quickly was drowned by grief, and regret, and embarrassment. As usual Severus had known exactly where to bury the knife, and how to twist it, to elicit the maximum amount of pain, shame and guilt, rubbing in his face the three greatest failures of his life with just a few spitefully-aimed words.

Gellert, Tom, Severus...

Albus had far more failures than achievements to his name, but those three stood out like neon lights, often making him fear he was doomed to hell thrice over. So many mistakes he had made with the three of them... He tried not to think that way, knowing it could only serve to torture himself into madness, but he had spent countless nights over the last fifty years regretting those mistakes, wondering what might have been if he had done more for them, if he had handled them differently from the very start. Tom would have probably ended up on a dark path no matter what anyone did, having been born without the ability to empathize, but Gellert had been capable of love, if only... No. There had been no way to steer Gellert away from his path of destruction, he knew that. If Albus had done things differently in regards to him, he would have ended up corrupted by darkness, persuaded to join Gellert in a quest for eternal power, and the world would have burned as a result.

Severus, on the other hand... There had been so much potential there. Potential for good, for progress, for love... Albus had failed to see that potential, to nurse it and protect it. He had let it fall in Tom's hands, and now he was failing again, fumbling helplessly as he watched Severus throw away everything he had accomplished in the last fourteen years. Watching him lose the fight against darkness, stepping over the rigid lines of conduct he had drawn for himself, giving in to the same poisonous feelings that had made him so vulnerable to Tom's manipulations in the past.

Was it too late? Albus had tried to have faith in Severus, had given him time and as much leeway as he could, hoping he would come back to his senses and find some light to hold onto, but after tonight... It was easy enough to ignore his fears and suspicions during the day, when Severus went about the castle following his busy routine with harsh normality, but tonight Albus had seen just how far gone the man was under the surface, how filled with hatred, lost to all decency and restraint.

It might be true that it was his own business what Severus did in the privacy of his chambers, especially if his victim wasn't of a mind to accuse him, but this wasn't a simple squabble or some rough sexual practice Albus could ignore. He couldn't ignore the substance abuse either, even though technically Severus was allowed to indulge in whatever recreational drugs he might be in the mood for when he was off-duty —as long as he was functional enough to work in the morning, or to attend any emergencies overnight, Albus couldn't reasonably object without having to censure the rest of the staff as well.

As Severus had defiantly pointed out, he was well within his rights to enjoy his private time however he wanted, and if Remus didn't press charges whatever happened between them must be considered consensual. It was also true that Albus had been the one out of line tonight —he certainly wouldn't deny his conduct had been inappropriate if instead of Severus' it had been Aurora's quarters he had sneaked into at three in the morning, to find her drunk, undressed and entertaining some guest that might or might not be chained to a wall. Minerva would have been even less forgiving of such intrusion, and Filius doubtlessly would give him a piece of his mind too if Albus ever made use of his Headmaster privileges to search his rooms or spy on his private activities.

Yes, Severus had valid reasons to be angry, seeing as Albus had indeed violated his privacy, but he could hardly expect to be fully trusted, considering his background and his recent behaviour. Severus wasn't an ordinary member of staff, but a dark wizard with a Dark Mark in his arm, a rebellious spy skilled at deception, a troubled man who had chosen darkness once and whose allegiance was decided by wavering feelings rather than altruistic beliefs. Albus wanted to trust him, but Severus wasn't making that easy for him, and with so much at stake...

Heaving a sigh, Albus sent Fawkes flying back to his perch and stood up, too restless to sit still while he waited for a visitor that might not come. What if Severus murdered his 'guest' after all? Albus hadn't considered the implications at the time, distracted by other aspects of Severus' appearance, but he realized now that if the Death Eater had gone around without a shirt then Remus must have seen the Dark Mark too. And if Severus had been careless enough to expose a secret he had been strictly forbidden to reveal under penalty of terrible punishment, he might not have intended to let his victim live long enough to tell anyone about it.

Would Remus have a chance to call for Bitsy before he was struck down? Most likely Severus would gag him or silence him to prevent that, but even if he didn't, if Remus managed to call for help, would Albus get there in time? No. He would be too late. And not only Albus would be unable to save him, unless he was ready to give up on his spy he would have to let Severus get away with it. That might be easy to do, since likely there would be no evidence left in the morning, but it would also be a dangerous precedent to set —getting away with blatant murder might give Severus the idea that he had carte blanche to kill anyone he didn't like, starting with Remus, then Alastor, Sirius when they met again, Rita Skeeter if he managed to find her... Next thing he knew, Albus would have to check every lemon drop for poison before bringing it to his mouth, and Harry...

Albus stopped his pacing and brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Was he seriously considering the possibility that Severus might hurt Harry?

Unfortunately, yes. If Severus had abandoned all self-restraint, and if Lily had ceased being a positive force pulling the strings in his darkening heart, then the boy was no longer safe with him. He was actually in grave danger, with his physical resemblance to James Potter and his connection to Sirius, plus his strategic value. Of course Severus couldn't touch Harry now, while the Goblet of Fire was still extending its magical protection to the champions, but the Tournament would be over in two weeks, and if the boy was still alive by that point it was a given that Tom would reward handsomely whichever Death Eater delivered his quarry to him. If Severus was considering to change sides again, bringing Harry as a gift would certainly earn him the forgiveness of his former master, proving his allegiance beyond a doubt and ensuring a favoured position amongst the Death Eaters —as long as Tom didn't suspect he had been given a piece of his own soul to destroy, that is.

Albus was certain that Severus would regret it if he harmed Lily's son or delivered him to her murderer, but what if he found the light too late, when the damage was already done? Severus was capable of remorse, yes, great amounts of it, but he also had a regrettable track record making grievous mistakes he couldn't undo. A history of wrong choices made in anger, of love suspended by hatred, of blind pursuit of revenge and personal security. And if there were drugs clouding his judgement on top of everything else...

Had it been a mistake to encourage Harry to trust his dangerous professor? Should Albus meet with the boy again, amend his last instructions, warn him to keep his distance from Severus when the Goblet turned off?

Should he send Severus away? Make sure he wasn't in Hogwarts during the Third Task?

Was there any point in worrying about these things, when Harry might not come out of the maze alive?

Albus sighed again, feeling older than ever. Until two weeks ago, he had been foolishly optimistic about the champions' chances of survival, but with a werewolf in the picture...

Shaking his head, he resumed his restless pacing around the office, his heart heavy with thoughts of Harry, Remus, Severus, Gellert... So much potential. So much life hampered by hardship or darkness or imminent death.

Albus paced, and paced, and paced. He sat to rest for a while, stood up again, went to stand by the window, paced some more.

Darkness gradually gave way to light as dawn approached, and still there was no sign of Remus. Was he dead? Was he suffering? Was he... enjoying?

Coming to a stop next to Fawkes' perch, Albus rubbed the phoenix under its chin while he considered that last thought.

Could it be truly consensual whatever was going on down there? All the blood and destruction in Severus' quarters, plus Remus' attempt to call for help, suggested that things had started badly between the two men, but maybe it was true that they had found a mutually agreeable way to work through their issues. Remus' voice had sounded strained, laboured, but that could easily be explained by a taxing or awkward position —a position that the werewolf might have willingly chosen to adopt, even if there was pain and chains involved, and that he certainly had chosen to maintain even when Albus had offered him an alternative.

It might not be the most expected way for two straight men to reconcile their differences, but then again, the individuals in question were not regular men, but creatures of the night. Fundamentally corrupted by darkness as they were, both dark wizards and werewolves had a tendency to use either violence or sex to solve any problem they came across, prioritizing dominance over sexual orientation and often developing violent preferences as a result. So at the very least Severus and Remus must share a similar mentality in regards to sex, a mutual understanding of dominance dynamics, even similar experience with drugs and pain. And it would actually make a lot of sense for them to work out their problems in a sexually aggressive way. Their personalities were certainly compatible —one forceful and controlling, the other passive and accommodating—, and Albus could see both men finding peace in such an arrangement, satisfying their respective needs to control and be contained, to punish and expiate for past failures.

The idea that Remus might truly be fine with his current situation was comforting, but Albus couldn't help still feeling anxious, an unshakeable sense of foreboding growing every minute the werewolf failed to appear at his door. Not the least because he knew that if Remus ever got here, when Albus asked him to be the werewolf in the maze he would probably wish Severus had killed him after all.

Perhaps he shouldn't ask him? It seemed cruel, a monstrous request, and yet...

Heaving another sigh, Albus pushed away the guilt and self-doubt and resumed his pacing around the office.

He paced, and paced, and paced.

The sun was already shinning over the eastern mountains when finally there came a knock on the door.