So It Goes On

Chapter 28: 20th December 1998

20th December 1998

Narcissa's Request

"Do whatever it takes," the pale witch said.

"It won't be easy," Severus replied, raising an eyebrow.

"If we don't do something my husband will die," Narcissa stated.

"He and I...and many others...are likely to die anyway," he said.

"This...curse...it affects those who were loyal? I only ever heard rumours so I'm not quite sure..."

"It was a rumour. We all heard it but none of us were convinced that it was real."

"Can you stop it?"

"Probably not," he admitted.

"Have you tried?"

"I can hold back the pain for a while. I could do the same for Lucius...but as for stopping it completely...I doubt even the Dark Lord could stop it if he wanted to. He wasn't one for revoking his Dark curses," Severus said.

"Have you tried to stop this curse?" Narcissa repeated.

"I wouldn't know how."

"...I don't know of anyone more knowledgeable about Dark curses than you, Severus."

"What a compliment," he scoffed. "I'll talk to Lucius. Anything else?"

"Don't tell him that we know...Draco and I. He has enough to worry about."

"He might not listen to me. We didn't part on the best of terms when I last saw him," the wizard sighed.

"Prison changes a man...I doubt he's had any more visitors. Maybe he's had time to think. You used to be good friends."

"People change."

"Please try," Narcissa begged and he nodded reluctantly. "Thank you," she said. "I know I've no right to ask this of you...you've already done so much...When you see him...would you give him this?" she asked, holding out a sealed envelope for him.

Severus took the letter and she held onto his hand with her own shaking ones. "How long do you think this curse will last?" she asked.

"In theory...it should have started sooner. I don't know why it didn't. Without knowing what's powering the spell...I've no way of telling how long it'll last. It could last for years...until we're dead...or it could last for days."

"Very comforting," Narcissa smiled, ruefully.

"Should I have lied?"

"...No. But I don't want either of you to..."

"I can't work miracles, Narcissa," he interrupted her.

"You didn't survive through two wars just to die because of a curse at the end of it all," she remarked.

"I wasn't supposed to survive," Severus admitted, honestly.

"Well, you did, and I'm glad you did."

"Hmmm," he mumbled, grimacing a little when he felt a sharp, stabbing pain from his Dark Mark.

Unfortunately, Narcissa saw it. She placed her hand over his arm where the Mark was and sighed. "...I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" he asked.

"For everything. I can't help but feel that...that Lucius and I...dragged you into all this. We encouraged your love of the Dark Arts. He vouched for you to the Dark Lord."

"I didn't need any encouragement," Severus told her. "As for the Dark Lord...he would have taken an interest in me without Lucius' recommendation."

"But still..."

"I chose this, just like you both did," Severus said as she nodded in understanding.

"...Good luck with Lucius," she said after a moment, releasing his forearm.

"I'll need more than luck," Severus said.

Chapter 29: 13th July 2001

Live Like a Muggle

13th July 2001

On the day that Narcissa and Draco were released from their Ministry imposed confinement they were of course, magically restricted. They had no wands. And, for good measure, they had magically restrictive, unremovable bracelets, one would almost call them handcuffs for that's what they were. But it was better then nothing.

They had no idea how he'd managed it, but the first palace they went after leaving their Ministry 'safe house' was Severus' home in Spinners End. A distinctly muggle neighbourhood that Narcissa had visited only a handful of times and Draco, never. Naturally it came as a shock.

"What is this?" the tired looking witch asked as Severus handed her a plate of food.

"Dinner," he told her simply.

"Yes...but 'what' is it?" she reiterated.

"Take away."

"Taken from...where?" Narcissa furrowed her brow and Severus snorted.

"From the Chinese cafe round the corner," he said, "It's beef."

"Smells...strange," Draco turned his nose up at the food.

"Eat it or don't," Severus shrugged as he ate his own portion quite happily. "There'll be nothing else tonight. Having spent the last three days more or less arguing with some of the most pig headed Aurors I've ever met, I found myself rather disinclined to cook. And I don't suppose either of you ever learned."

"I've always had house elves for that," Narcissa shrugged.

"You don't now. You'll have to learn. I can hardly send Hogwarts house elves to work for you. It was a hard enough time getting you both released without adding servants to it."

"Learn to...cook? Without magic?" she frowned.

"It's not difficult," Severus told her.

"I'm not accustomed to...but I suppose...under the circumstances...I am, of course, grateful..." she sighed. "I would appreciate your help, Severus, if you would be good enough to show me how to cook...without magic," she said and he nodded.

He understood that such a request wasn't easy for her to make and the last few years hadn't exactly been kind to the Malfoys'. They'd had to learn about humility and poverty since the Ministry had commandeered all their possessions. They were basically living off Severus' good graces.

"Tomorrow, perhaps," he said, watching out of the corner of his eye as Draco found the television remote and the screen came to life. "Right now...I'd say you have something more immediate to worry about," he said.

Draco exclaimed in shock, dropping the remote and scrambling on the sofa at the light which suddenly engulfed the smallish sitting room. "Uncle Sev!" he shouted and the headmaster laughed.

"It's a television, Draco. Having been deprived of one all your life, I've a feeling you'll get on quite well," he chuckled and then turned to an equally shocked Narcissa. "You son has been deprived of television all his life and he's just discovered it. Most muggles would be concerned in your place," Severus said.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Depends on your definition," he shrugged.

"What the?!" Draco exclaimed as he stared at the television and then at the remote in his hands. "It moved! I didn't do anything, uncle Sev, I swear!"

"You changed the channel, you clueless pure blood," Severus rolled his eyes,

"I changed the..." Draco muttered, pressing the same button again and watching as the images in the screen changed and then burst into uncontrollable laughter which was music to his perplexed mother's ears.

"Severus?" Narcissa began, blinking her delicate eyes at he screen. "That's a...a...monkey...on a unicycle?" she frowned.

"So it is," he nodded, stoically.

"Muggle entertainment?"

"Muggle entertainment," he affirmed.

"Mother!" Draco said, still chortling, "Why did we never have one of these?!"

"I..." the witch fell silent, lost for words. She had a feeling that learning to live as a Muggle could be more difficult than learning to live as a prisoner.

Chapter 30: 31st January 1999

Face Your Fears

31st January 1999

There were certain times in life when it was best to face your fears. Severus knew that. But it was never easy. It wasn't supposed to be.

Tonks was ill and unable to keep her husband company when he transformed that month. Minerva was watching over their sleeping child.

"I know...I know it's a lot to ask," Tonks coughed, "But he trusts you. He...it's not...it's not nice for him to be alone when he...I know you...hate werewolves. He told me you do. But you brew the potions for him yourself and I..."

"Don't," he stopped her. "Perhaps you've overlooked the fact that I brew it for purely selfish reasons. Namely, so that I don't have to face an out of control werewolf every month and have the Ministry vying for my blood when it turns on the students."

"He said you'd say that," Tonk smiled at him, "Look...Remus told me not to ask you. I swear he did. He'd go nuts if he knew I was. I think..."

"You're ill, it hardly matters what you think," the headmaster retorted.

"Please...Severus," she begged and he sighed. One day, he'd learn to tell a pleading woman to piss off. Maybe.

Once a month, the Room of Requirement was magically sealed off from the rest of the castle on the orders of the headmaster and tonight was such a night. Severus never ventured into the room when it was closed off and turned into the world's most formidable werewolf prison, now he was making an exception. What a fool he was.

The doors bade him entry and sealed behind him again, not to open again until morning, locking him in with a creature straight out of one of his own nightmares.

Remus was sitting in a metal cage and surrounding it were powerful wards and charms etched into the floor. The wizard looked up from his solitary vigil when Severus began walking towards him, his shoes clicking against the floorboards.

"...Severus?" he furrowed his tense brow, watching the headmaster stand before the cage, not not quite close enough to touch it though.

"Lupin," the man replied.

"Where's...Tonks?"

"Indisposed."

"Minerva?" he asked.

"Watching your ill wife and sleeping child."

"...Harry?"

"Working."

Remus sagged against his prison and sighed heavily. "Why...I know you don't...why would you..." he stammered, uneasily.

"Because I'm a fool, clearly, and your wife knows it," Severus replied.

"My wife..." Remus repeated, stopping when the first wave of his impending transformation began. It felt like being stabbed in the back as his spine began to shift under his skin. "I don't...have much time...to...Severus, please," he begged.

"The doors are bolted for the night."

"You're...urgh...the headmaster. They'll open for..." the werewolf protested, hugging his knees and clawing at his skin as he tried to stifle his cries.

"No, they won't. Not now," Severus said.

It wasn't an easy task for the headmaster to stand and witness. He'd seen terrible, unspeakable things as a Death Eater and done many terrible, unspeakable things himself. But werewolves were something different. He was truly terrified of them. Logically, he knew he shouldn't be scared; this werewolf would likely spend most of its transformation asleep, but things that scared you as a child tended to stick with you as an adult.

"I know you hate...werewolves!" Remus managed to hiss at him.

Without realising it, Severus had taken a step back but despite the pain, Remus noticed it and it tore at his heart. He'd thought over the last few months that they'd formed some kind of truce, maybe a reluctant tolerance on Severus part but an overt respect on his own. Now this would ruin everything.

"I'm...not entirely fond of students either and I'm forced to live with them every day," Severus shot back.

"This is different!" the werewolf howled, "Just go! You don't need to...stay. I've done this on my own...before. You've got enough to worry about...and I don't want you to be...scared of me!"

"Don't flatter yourself, wolf."

"Please..." Remus managed for the last time before the wolf overtook him completely and every bone and ligament snapped as it moved to accommodate longer, animal limbs. When he'd changed completely, the whimpering stopped and the heavy breathing quietened, leaving a sedate wolf but with a human mind. The whole thing had only taken a matter of seconds.

Severus thought it was repulsive, inhuman and not something he would wish on anyone...except perhaps the Dark Lord.

The headmaster found himself frozen where he stood but finally jolted himself out of his trance like state when the wolf raised his head a little to stare him right in the eyes. Although they were the eyes of a beast, they looked almost human and to a master Legillimens, the human thoughts inside the animals' head were all but screaming and clawing at his mental shields, begging to be heard.

'I'm so sorry,' the voice of Remus Lupin said to him.

Turning away, Severus conjured a comfortable arm chair and a book and sat down opposite the cage, giving no indication that he'd heard the apology.

"I happened to meet Master Worthington earlier in the month," the headmaster remarked, calmly as he opened his book. He portrayed the perfect image of clarity as though sitting down and talking to a transformed werewolf was just a regular occurrence for him.

The wolf tilted its head, confused as it whinnied at him.

"He's a Master Potioneer and he usually doesn't venture far from the Alps. He's taken to wandering a small, Swiss town up there in flesh coloured long johns. It's driven all the tourists away and it's driving the locals crazy," Severus said and the animal laughed, or at least it snorted. "Insane he may be but his current field of research is Lycanthropy. He wrote to me looking for some unicorn hairs and I supplied him with them...at a marked up price, of course."

The wolf rolled its large eyes almost fondly and rested its head on the ground, staring over at the usually reticent wizard.

"He has...a rather interesting theory...and a bleeding heart bad enough to rival the 'Boy Who Lived.' I don't believe it's possible to cure Lycanthropy and I don't believe he does either. He's mad as a March hare but he's not stupid. He thinks he can alleviate the...discomfort...of the transformation. We have all the same ingredients and we both have our own willing test subjects," he sneered a little but the wolf only seemed amused. "We have a bet. The looser buys the winner a Dragon's heart the size of a Quaffle," he said.

Now the wolf snorted even louder.

"However...I will be requiring something from you," Severus added. "Fortunately, you might not remember this in the morning so if you're uncomfortable with blood magic, you can claim plausible deniability. I need your blood and your hair...from...as you are now."

'Blood magic?' the stained and untrained voice asked him, mentally.

"And Dark Magic," Severus clarified in an attempt to scare the wolf back.

'I trust you, Severus,' Remus replied, instantly.

After narrowing his eyes, Severus just shrugged and turned his attention back to his book. In truth, there was no Master Worthington. There was a bet that was rife in the Annual Potioneers Conference and the prize was indeed a Dragon's heart, but Severus hadn't been to the conference in years so he had no idea if the bet was still ongoing or even what it was anymore. It tended to change each year from what he remembered.

He knew there wasn't much he could do to improve the Wolfsbane potion and he had in fact been working on an entirely new potion to alleviate the pain, but it hadn't really been at the top of his to do list. But he was an insomniac and he tended to work on new potions and spells when he was meant to be sleeping. This was one of the many he'd started in those early morning hours which had stemmed from the original Wolfsbane. At the moment, it was just a jumbled mess of ingredients inside his head but he did actually need the blood and hair for it. What better time to acquire them than when a wolf was sedated right in front of him?

It was a few hours later, when Severus was sure that the werewolf was sleep, that he collected samples of the blood and hair in small vials which he stored in his robes at all times. It was a Potion Masters' habit.

The rest of the night, he spent reading his book while the creature slept silent in its cage, unlikely to wake again.

All in all, facing his fear of werewolves had been a little anticlimactic, or at least it was when said fear was sedated. It probably wouldn't have been so easy if the wolf had no human mind to control it.

It was only later when the shock set in and he was forced to take a scaldingly hot shower and listen to loud rock music, that he was able to convince himself that even though he was dealing with his own curse, at least he wasn't a werewolf.

In the early hours of the morning, Remus awoke as himself again, lying amidst a pile of blankets which definitely hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep and he was alone. Until Minerva came to release him.

Using the fireplace in the Room of Requirement, she Flooed them to his rooms and helped him into bed beside his wife who was feeling a little improved. It was then that he told them about what Severus had said last night about the insane Potioneer. He wasn't quite sure why, but when he was tired after his transformations, he liked to babble, or so he'd been told, when he had a friendly ear nearby.

"Master who?" Minerva frowned.

"Worthington. Severus said he met him and they made some kind of bet and he came here to..."

"I didn't know there was a Master Worthington," she said, confused, "And if there was, I think we'd have heard about him visiting the country especially if he was such a lunatic."

"Think he was giving you the run around, Moony," Tonks told her husband, patting her hand on his chest.

"But why would he..." Remus addled brain struggled to comprehend it all until, finally, it clicked inside his tired mind and he smiled. "Oh," he muttered.

"Oh? Oh what? What are we 'oh'ing at?" Tonks demanded.

"Nothing," the wizard said, resting back in his bed. "Nothing...just...nothing. Minerva...will you tell the headmaster I said 'thank you'?" he asked as the deputy headmistress was leaving.

Chapter 31: 10th August 2002

Draco's Escape

10th August 2002

"Are you quite sure you have everything that you need?" Narcissa asked for the tenth time. "These muggle suitcases are very primitive. You can hardly fit anything in them. How they travel anywhere is beyond me," she bemoaned.

"I have everything, mother," Draco groaned as she straightened his jacket again. "You saw me pack everything. Twice!" he said.

"Yes, but I...I need to be sure. We cannot overlook anything..."

"I'll be fine," Draco assured her.

Though they were both still bound by magical restraints and forced to live as muggles, Severus had once more come through for them and managed to give Draco just what he'd wanted. He was leaving to travel. Alone. With no Aurors to watch over him. He still had to report his location to the Ministry every day and no doubt they would be keeping an eye on him, but he wasn't to be kept under lock and key anymore. He was free.

"Are you sure about this boat nonsense?" the witch asked, staring out the window of the Dover dock and the boats outside. "It seems awfully risky to me. A very unsafe way to travel," she shuddered.

Wearing muggle clothes had taken some getting used to for her even though Draco had acclimatised quickly. Even Severus didn't stand out much in his black jeans, faded t-shirt and layered jackets but Narcissa couldn't help but feel vulnerable and out of place without her elaborate clothes and robes. But she'd been forced to concede that they were just too flamboyant for everyday life in the muggle world. More to the pity.

"It's a very safe way of muggle traveling," Draco told her, "I've read books, really. It'll be fine."

"Severus could have taken you there and it wouldn't involve being stuck in...that..."

"We're as good as muggles, mother," he sighed. "They not...so bad...I mean...their food is okay. Cars are...quite nice. And TV...how we live without that makes no sense to me at all."

"But..."

"I want this, mum. Really. I...I can't stay here and...just do nothing. I need to go. I thought you understood..."

"I do, Dragon, I do," she said, clutching her son's pale hands in her own. "I...You should take this chance. Salazar knows, it hasn't been easy...and if this is what you want..."

"It is. Besides...I'll write to you. Uncle Sev said he'll send Fawkes and he's faster than any owl. And I have my phone..."

"I don't understand how you've come to love their...technology...so much," she sniffed.

"It's convenient," he defended.

"Hmmm."

"I'll bring you back something, you and father and Uncle Sev. Something from every country," Draco said.

"Never mind that," she shook her head, patting his hand. "Just...enjoy yourself," she said, hugging him one last time before he walked over to his silent godfather.

Severus had been standing off to the side, not wanting to interrupt as they said their goodbyes. But now, Draco walked over to him, leaving his mother to glare out over the runway again, and the young wizard sighed.

"Thank you," Draco said, earnestly. "For this...for everything," he said. He knew, however much the man seemed to have thawed over the last few years, that Severus was still not an emotional man. Draco wasn't quite sure how to approach a goodbye.

"When you get to Paris," Severus began, quietly, "Remember...Rue D'Cassini...Number 16. Ask for Virginie...remind her that she owes me a favour."

Draco snorted and couldn't help the pinkish hue that flushed his face as his godfather smirked at him. "I...I'm not going to Paris just for..." the young man muttered.

"I know...neither did your father and I," Severus shrugged, clearly not as embarrassed as his godson appeared to be.

"Please...I really, really don't need to know..." Draco exclaimed and the headmaster chuckled a little.

"The place has a remarkable view of the city. You'll thank me," the man said, sagely.

"For the view?" Draco asked, suggestively and the man raised an eyebrow in approval.

"For the view," he nodded, "Both of them."

With one last snort, Draco used all his Slytherin courage and did what he'd never done before. He hugged his godfather. He couldn't ever remember the man hugging him before and for some reason, he didn't want to let go when he felt the man's strong arms around him, even though the boat would be leaving soon.

"Don't do anything stupid, will you," Severus muttered in his ear.

"I think I've made all my stupid choices for one lifetime," Draco replied.

"I'm relieved to hear it," the man said, rather sadly in Draco's opinion.

"I'll miss you, Uncle Sev," he mumbled back, sheepishly, still hugging the man, finding it easier than looking him in the eye.

"Not in Number. 16 you won't. I guarantee it," Severus said.

"Well...I meant...you know...after...after that."

"Nice to know that I'm high on your list of priorities."

"Okay...before then," Draco laughed.

"Better," Severus said in all serious and gently pried his godson off him. It felt like he'd wrapped around him like Devil's Snare. Before he could speak again, they heard an announcement that the boat Draco was waiting for, was boarding now.

"I...I have to go," the young wizard said, heavily, picking up his bag.

"Dragon...remember...if you need anything...or if you want to come home...Severus can be there in an instant," Narcissa said, frantically.

"I know, mum," he said, patiently. "But I'll be fine, really," he added as she hugged him yet again.

"I'll see you soon, Draco," she said, finally letting him leave with the queue of others who were moving en masse.

When he was gone, vanished into the crowd, she sighed. "That was the right thing to do, wasn't it?" she asked, glancing at Severus who nodded at her. "I know...I know it is. But it doesn't make it any easier," she admitted.

Chapter 32: 23rd December 2003 Part 1

Lucius' Freedom

23rd December 2003 Part 1

It was in his fifth year at Hogwarts that Lucius Malfoy started to notice that he really could deny Narcissa Black nothing. The witch could've demanded the headmasters' head on a silver platter and he would've done anything to give it to her. Or at least, he would have paid an inordinate amount of money to have someone get it for him to then give to her. Anything she wanted, he gave her without question; lavish clothes, exquisite jewellery and magical artefacts of untold value. The Malfoy fortune was unlimited as was his adoration of Narcissa. The entirety of Slytherin house knew it. Though it had started as an arranged marriage from when they had both been very young, they'd quickly learned that they'd got along really quite well, not that it would have made any difference to the arrangement.

They also knew that Narcissa, the literal queen of Slytherin at the time, despised her cousin, Sirius Black, more than anything or anyone in the world. Therefore, so did Lucius Malfoy. The thought of a scion of the ancient and most noble house of Black being sorted into Gryffindor, of cavorting with muggleborns and half bloods, was shocking to all at the time.

And while a pure blood of a dark, ancient family revelled in his Gryffindor foolishness, a half blood of little note was sorted into Slytherin; a house that valued blood purity and social standing eventually became home to a waif of a child named Severus Snape.

Naturally, Lucius was horrified until it became clear that this was no mere boy. He had ambition. He had talent. It was clear that he'd been given some form of magical education but he had a rather odd accent; a mix of upper class pronunciation and a much less desirable, northern lilt. It left him, along with his odd sarcastic attitude, rather friendless and alone in a house, which at the time, had been composed mostly of wealthy pure bloods.

Narcissa began to see that her hated cousin despised Severus and it didn't help that the Slytherin boy's only friend was a 'mudblood' Gryffindor girl.

Lucius remembered the day very clearly out in the castle grounds, when Narcissa had approached him with all the boldness of youth and said, "Lucius, I'm bored."

"Well, say the word, my dear, and we'll go to Paris for the weekend," he had replied.

"I don't want to go to Paris," she had said.

"Venice, then?" he had suggested.

"I'm tired of my foolish cousin lording his Gryffindor superiority over me," the witch explained.

"Cissa, there's nothing superior about a Gryffindor," he'd said, shaking his head.

"Then, I assume, you'll help me?"

"You know I'd do anything you asked. You have but to name it," he'd replied, pompously.

"Severus Snape," she had said.

"Beg pardon?" he had furrowed his pale brow, confused.

"I intend on teaching him, and you're going to help me."

"I am?"

"You did say 'anything'."

"So I did. What exactly are we to teach him?"

"Well, not potions. I'd say the boy knows more than you about that," she'd smirked. Even in his first few months at the school, it had become clear that Severus was very gifted in the subject.

"What then?" he'd reiterated, becoming impatient.

"Etiquette," Narcissa finally elaborated, "Manners. Elocution."

"...I see," he'd nodded, after a moments' thought.

He'd been as good as his word. He'd taught Severus everything that Abraxas Malfoy had taught him and he'd had to admit that the young Slytherin had been a remarkable student. He'd watched the awkward young northerner grow into his confidence and his magic, which had continued to impress him. Though both would deny it asked, they'd formed a close friendship that had lasted for years and somehow, had endured through two wizarding wars during which, they'd barely spoke to one another.

But now, decades later, Lucius was left wondering just which of them owed the other more. The student or the teacher.

It was raining heavily that evening outside the walls Azkaban. It was also freezing cold out in the open air with the sea thundering against the rocks below and Lucius was shivering uncontrollably. He was being held aloft only by the two Aurors, one on either side of him, with his arms slung over their shoulders and his ankles still in chains which made walking difficult, so he was more or less dragged out of the fortress.

Severus Snape was stood at the edge of the small island beside Kingsley, the Minister for Magic, as well as the disgruntled head of the Auror Office, Gawain Robards and Harry Potter, a high ranking Auror himself now, and several other officials surrounding them as well.

"I won't be able to do much once the newspapers hear about this," Kingsley told the headmaster. "It was bad enough when we released his family. I dread to think how bad it'll be after this."

"That should be the least of their worries," Robards mumbled, angrily, "Releasing a Death Eater...of all the stupid..."

"You've made your opinion clear, Gawain," Kingsley sighed, "But the Ministry has agreed."

"Barely," he replied. "And decisions can be challenged," he warned.

"Try it," Severus glared back at him.

"I intend to...headmaster," the man sneered back. Their dislike of one another was rather infamous in the Ministry and they were perhaps lucky that they'd never been left alone together for people worried that only one, or neither, would emerge alive.

As the 'prisoner' was brought closer to them, it became obvious that the man was covered in cuts, grazes, scars and bruises and that his ragged clothes were torn, not to mention highly unsuitable for the cold weather.

"What happened?" Kingsley asked, turning to the Auror beside him.

"We needed to question him one last time, of course," the Auror explained, maliciously.

"And the reason he was not healed?" Severus demanded.

"I'm an Auror, not a Healer."

While Kingsley took Gawain aside, Severus stalked forwards and caught Lucius just before he fell to the floor when the Aurors released him.

"Severus?" the haggard blonde looked up at him, confused. Clearly he'd been told nothing of his impending release. He'd known that Severus had been negotiating for this for years but he hadn't known that it was actually a possibility. In the last few months, Severus had been forbidden from visiting the prison as the Ministry had debated the release of Lucius Malfoy.

"Who else?" the man said, sighing heavily. He turned to the Aurors who had mercilessly dropped his friend and gave them his best, most intimidating glare. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little pleased when they took small steps back in fear. "Remove those chains," he ordered them.

After glancing at the Minister who nodded, they did so and then, stepped back even further.

"...Am I dead?" Lucius asked, quietly.

"You look it," Severus answered, dryly.

"...Am I dreaming?"

"Of me? I'm flattered," the headmaster replied and he began to remove his outer cloak. It proved a little difficult since he was still holding his friend upright and Harry ran forwards to help him remove the robe.

Severus said nothing as he wrapped the warm, black cloak around Lucius' shoulders. It was a luxurious thing made from the finest fabric, lined with fur at the shoulders and embroidered with silver thread at the bottom.

"A fur lined cloak?" Lucius observed, "A bit luxurious for you, isn't it? Did you finally decide to listen to me about your wardrobe?"

"Hardly. It was a gift from your wife and son," Severus replied, "Your vanity isn't something I can ever hope to match."

"Oh, hex a wounded man while he's down, that's rather cruel of you," the man said, raising a mocking hand to his heart.

"I learned from the best."

"An insult and a compliment in one sentence...is it my birthday?" he choked, barking back a hiss as he caught one of the open wounds on his chest with his hand.

Harry could only stare in open mouthed shock at the playful banter between these two Dark wizards, both of whom had somewhat terrorised him during his childhood, albeit in different ways. He'd known, as many had, that during the last few years, Severus Snape must care significantly for Lucius Malfoy, otherwise why would he have bothered keeping the man alive for so long? Another theory was that Malfoy senior had been blackmailing the headmaster, although that seemed highly unlikely. But seeing them toss insults and sarcastic remarks at each other and in such a tense situation too, just like 'normal' people, was really something.

"What?!" Severus demanded, staring at Harry.

"...Nothing," Harry replied, quickly.

"Potter?" Lucius frowned, noticing him for the first time.

"An explanation best left for another time," Severus assured him and Harry nodded.

"You should probably get out of here...before Robards changes his mind," he remarked.

"Your pitiful Auror dog doesn't frighten me," Severus sneered.

"Maybe not...but I don't think a duel right now would do you any favours, headmaster...though a lot of people would probably be on your side," he added quietly.

"Now, this I really..." Lucius smirked.

"Not now," Severus scowled at him and he rolled his eyes.

"But an Auror that's less popular than you? How can I pass up such a..."

"Will you be quiet?" the headmaster snapped and Lucius chuckled.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "You know...when you were telling me about my freedom, I really did think you were joking," he said.

"Surprise...now back in your cell."

"Hah!" Lucius chortled then winced again. "Oh...don't make me laugh," he grumbled.

"Who's laughing?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"...So...I'm free?" Lucius asked, soberly.

"Somewhat," the other wizard replied.

"Of this place?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"Then let's go. Now," Lucius said, desperately and his friend nodded.

The headmaster managed to get Lucius to his feet and they made slow progress over to the Minister.

"Severus, I had no idea that..." Kingsley began.

"No doubt you'll be hearing from my lawyers, Minister," Lucius managed to drawl.

"Of course," the man nodded. He wasn't exactly thrilled at the though of Lucius Malfoy being freed but the harsh restrictions on his life, which he would soon learn of, made things a little more tolerable. "For now...you must come to the Ministry. This is not going to be a straightforward release," he said.

"No magic at all?!" Lucius hissed as the mediwitch attended his injuries. "Be careful, witch!" he growled. He was sat in a secure room deep in the offices of the Auror department with an aged, scowling witch trying to heal his wounds whilst he glared at everyone who seemingly existed only to irritate him.

"I don't think you understand just how fortunate you are to even be outside of Azkaban. We can hardly let you loose on the world with a wand," the Minister remarked.

"So I am to go from one prison to another?"

"Pretty nice little prison if you ask me," Robards grumbled.

"You can consent to magical restraints or go back to Azkaban," Kingsley said to Lucius.

"How am I expected to function without magic?" the platinum blonde demanded.

"Muggles manage perfectly well," Harry remarked.

"I'm not a muggle! I'm a wizard! A pure blood!"

"You are a convicted Death Eater. You're a prisoner. The world is a changed place since you last lived in it. That kind of superiority has no place in it anymore," Kingsley replied, harshly.

"Choose your battles, you fool," Severus whispered in his Lucius' ear.

"But I cannot be expected to..." Lucius ground out, but on seeing the seriousness in his friends' eyes, he sighed. "Fine. Fine. How long am I to endure these...restrictions?"

"As long as the Ministry deems it necessary," Robards smirked. "And...if you put so much as blink the wrong way...I can have you sent back to Azkaban in a nice, cosy little cell with the Dementors."

"Charming," Lucius drawled. He watched as the Auror take a small, innocuous looking bracelet from his robes. It was silver and etched with powerful runes; the same ones which still bound his wife and son. "I've never really been a 'bracelet' man," Lucius remarked, pensively and Severus glared at him. "Oh, very well," he relented, holding out his right hand.

It clicked together around his wrist like a manacle and the runes shone bright gold for a second before they faded and suddenly, Lucius felt rather strange. It was as good as having your magic removed, he supposed, so of course he'd feel out of sorts.

"It's really quite hideous, don't you think?" he asked Severus, making a poor effort at feigning indifference as he studied the artefact.

"Is that all, Minister?" Severus asked, ignoring his friend.

"I suppose so," the man answered. "I'll be sending more people to patrol your manor. It's a precaution, you understand?"

"'Manor'?" Lucius frowned. Of course, Severus had told him that, last year, he'd inherited a rather beautiful, country Manor House, but surely his new prison wasn't to be said Manor House.

"I won't be bringing them tea and biscuits," Severus remarked.

"You'd probably scare them half to death if you did," the Minister scoffed and gave him a respectful nod before he left with the mediwitch and Gawain Robards, who merely glared at them.

"That could've gone worse," Harry remarked, a little nervously as he was left alone with the headmaster and Lucius Malfoy.

"Your...assistance...was appreciated," Severus said slowly as though it were physically painful, but the younger wizard smiled at him in understanding.

"Assistance...Severus, what on Earth..." Lucius frowned, confused.

"Later, Lucius," the headmaster shook his head. "Much later," he said, raking a hand through his long hair.

The truth was, Harry Potter had quite a lot of influence in the Ministry and not merely because he was 'The Boy Who Lived'. He had argued almost as fiercely as Severus in regards to the Malfoy's release and it had taken a very frank discussion for the headmaster to finally understand why. Bloody minded, Gryffindors. Naturally, if anything went wrong, then it was Severus' neck on the line, but he wouldn't be going to the noose alone. Potter had risked his reputation as well and his superiors weren't exactly happy about it.

"Where am I to live?" Lucius asked, "I suppose it's too much to ask for Malfoy Manor back?"

"Correct. Fortunately, I have a Manor House of my own. It's well warded and far better than Spinners' End."

"And the patrol of Aurors is what? An added bonus to enhance the view?"

"Naturally," Severus said and his friend scoffed.

"Alright then," Lucius nodded and taking a deep breath.

"Your enthusiasm is endearing," the headmaster muttered, "I'll tell Narcissa you were ever so eager to see her again."

"Cissa's there?!"

"I told you she was."

"Yes, but I...assumed we'd be...I never thought I'd..."

"When have you ever known me to do things half way?"

"And...and Draco?"

"He'll be back later tonight. He's been in Paris again and he's coming back the muggle way."

"But you could just..."

"He's knows that," Severus shrugged. Though he had been busy lately and to his very great surprise, Draco had found that he didn't actually mind doing most things the muggle way. He certainly loved travelling but eventually, Draco had settled in Paris and he spent more than half the year there now.

"I'll never understand the young," Lucius lamented, standing up on uneasy legs. "Right...Prince Manor. Lead the way, Severus," he said.

"Potter," the headmaster nodded as he passed Harry, stalking over to the door that lead out of the room.

"We are Apparating, yes?" Lucius called after him, "I'll not be dragged through the Ministry in rags! I'll tolerate the Floo if need be! Severus!"

Chapter 33: 1st March 1999

MediWitch - Patient Confidentiality

1st March 1999

It was a substantial medical file that they encountered, more so than any other around them and the patient that it pertained to was clearly one used to certain amount of pain. It began its records from their first days at Hogwarts as a malnourished child with inexplicable bruises and scars, though the matron had written down her troubling suspicions. Each year it would progress as the matron recorded the child putting on much needed weight and that the scars would fade only for them to reappear the following year after going home and the weight would be lost again. Then the cycle would repeat again and again and again.

As the child grew, the matron recorded more injuries appearing during the school term and again, she recorded her suspicions and her frustration seemed to seep through the pages when nothing was done about it. In places the quill even seemed to have pierced the paper in anger.

Then, after seven years of constant ailments ranging from common colds to bruises and at its worst, broken bones, the records stopped. And then picked up again several years later. It seemed to be making up for lost time, recording injuries that had happened in the interim and these were far worse. It listed prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse resulting in a violent tremor which at best make work difficult and at worst, caused seizures which lasted for hours. Bones that had been broken had been inadequately healed and had needed to be reset. Scars drowned in a dark magical poison laced the patients back, never to be healed.

The list seemed never ending and far beyond cruel.

"Please...don't say there's more," a woman's voice asked, shakily.

"Lots more by the look of it," was the reply and the four people sighed simultaneously.

"This was...maybe we shouldn't be doing this," a second woman said, shaking her head.

But somehow it didn't stop them from continuing.

After a while, the matron recorded that the patient had been detained in Azkaban prison for a month and returned in a deplorable state. Malnourished, dehydrated, hypersensitive to light, and worst of all, locked inside their own mind in an attempt at self preservation, they were completely unresponsive. Albus Dumbledore himself spent weeks trying to find some way into this unresponsive mind without damaging it any further and his efforts lead to the headmaster exhausting himself and his own mind but overall he was successful.

The patient seemed to recover physically only to crippled emotionally. Muggles would call it 'depression' but wizards were shockingly far behind in studies of the mind. The patient seemed to take to bouts of severe alcoholism leading to uncontrollable bursts of destructive magic, at one point even casting the Cruciatus curse on themself via a mirror which exploded in their face from the impressive force of the spell.

As the years passed, the amount of injuries appeared to be decreasing, though the cold weather in winter seemed to bring about the old tremors and aggravated the scars of the irritable patient.

Then, in late 1994, the writing suddenly became erratic and in places the pages were stained with potions and with blood. Why they hadn't been cleaned with magic long ago, was anyone's guess.

Along with repeated Cruciatus exposure again, at which the matron worried that much more may drive the patient mad as it had so many before, she listed far more physical injuries than any person could possibly survive. Unlike before, the mind seemed to have been tortured as well. Some wizards referred to Legillimency as 'mind rape' and in this instance, the matron grimly wrote that she finally understood why. The patients' Dark Mark seemed to provide a near constant source of pain which easily explained his foul temper.

Following this, there seemed to be no end to the number of times the patient was subjected to repeated amounts of both the torture curse and of brutal infiltrations of the mind. At random intervals there would be times of the patient having been carried back to the castle, unconscious, to be healed, only for it happen again.

It culminated in the wizard having his throat severed and his blood poisoned by quite possibly the world's most lethal snake, the effects of which did nothing for the already existing tremors.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?!" Poppy Pomfrey cried in horror as she pointed her wand at them.

"Uh oh," Ron muttered and slowly, rather uselessly, closed the file and tried to hide it behind his back.

"Of all the disrespectful..." the matron paced before them, more angry than any of the, had ever seen her before.

By her side, Minerva was glaring at them in disappointment and Remus held the closed file in his hand as they listened to the long suffering medi-witch.

"You've pulled some stunts over the years but I never expected...you not only broke I don't even know how many school rules, you completely disrespected the headmaster! The oath I took as a medi-witch is a serious one that ensures the utmost respect to my patients' confidentiality! I dread to think just how Severus will react..."

"Do you...do you really have to tell..." Ginny asked, tentatively.

"Of course I do!" Poppy exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration in a manner in which they were all familiar. "Irrespective of the fact that the four of you somehow managed to break down my wards, you couldn't have insulted either of us more if you'd cast the torture curse at us!"

"We didn't mean to..." Harry began.

"Well, what did you expect? You know what he's like! He hates that I know half of what's in that file and if he chooses to do away with the four of you after this, I've no objection to helping him," she replied, haughtily.

"Poppy," Minerva sighed.

"I mean every word, Minerva."

"I thought your oath meant that you can't harm..."

"Damn my oath! It's already been broken once tonight!"

"I hardly think doing away with four snooping students will do anyone any favours," Remus said, sardonically, speaking for the first time. "Least of all, the headmaster," he added.

"Moony, I..." Harry spoke again only for the werewolf to silence him with a raised hand.

"That's professor Lupin," the man corrected, though he hated to do it. He had little choice. "And now, I think, we should pay the headmaster a visit," he said, standing up from the small bed he'd been sitting on.

Among the teaching staff, it was a well known fact that Severus was an insomniac, so the thought of paying him an unexpected visit could rattle the nerves of the bravest of men. If the man was actually sleeping and one was forced to wake him, it would mean a well aimed hex or a shattered object.

While it was true that they'd never been the best of friends, Minerva and Severus had formed a strange camaraderie and though she feared she'd ruined it after last year, she'd been delighted to find that the two were able to return to their amiable bickering which she had missed so much. So, when there was a need to wake the sleeping wizard, she frequently found herself being nominated for the job since she seemed to be the only one able to deflect the curses sent her way when she tried.

"I believe he's actually asleep," the portrait of Albus Dumbledore told them. "And you must know as well as I that that's a rare occurrence. Must you wake him now?" he asked.

"We've little choice, I'm afraid," Minerva replied.

"Very well," Albus nodded, grimly. "Then, I suggest arming yourself, Minerva..."

"I have done this before, Albus," she sniffed, sounding a little insulted.

"And I recall you swore to never do it again. If I recall correctly, last time he..."

"Needs must," she said, drawing her wand.

And so it was, with no small amount of Gryffindor courage, she left the students, the still fuming matron and Remus, while she walked willingly into the sleeping snake's lair.

After a moment there was a muffled cry and a loud crashing followed by an explosion of light as all the candles ignited in the bedroom and spilled out into the office.

"Damn it all, Minerva!" they heard Severus hiss. Curiously, they heard a rather northern-ish sounding inflection in his voice as opposed to his usual tone. "How many times do I have to..."

"Honestly, Severus," they heard her say, "It's fine. I was prepared. And it's not as though I'm incapable of defending myself."

"We really are dead, aren't we?" Ron grumbled and his sister nodded.

After a minute and following a muffled conversation they couldn't quite make out, Minerva returned followed by a tired and irritable Severus. His long, black hair was in desperate need of cutting as he kept being told, but he tended to ignore it and just left it tied back. Even without his frock coat and flowing robes, wearing just his trousers and a white shirt, he still looked every bit as intimidating.

"Potter," Severus hissed, the northern tone now completely banished, "I might've known."

He moved to sit behind his desk and he leaned forwards. He seemed perfectly calm until his eyes caught the file which was resting innocuously on his desk. On first glance, it looked to be just an ordinary medical file. He wasn't to know that it was his own. "Minerva," he began, "Explain."

"The wards around Poppy's medical files were breached, headmaster," the witch said.

"My oath as a healer completely disregarded in the process!" Poppy added.

"You've alerted St. Mungo's of this, then?" he inquired. "They are your first contact in medical matters, aren't they?" he said to Poppy, "I fail to see why I should see this as an emergency."

"The file, headmaster!" the matron lamented.

"What of it?"

"...It's yours."

"...What?" Severus demanded, his calm demeanour shattering in an instant as he dragged the file across his desk to open it. Once he saw that she was right, he closed it and turned his dark eyes to the four silent students. "And now much did you read?" he asked them.

"All of it...sir," Harry answered, seeing the familiar anger behind the black eyes.

"I'm not quite sure what brought this on, Severus," Minerva said, "But Poppy and I secured the wards around that file ourselves. The fact that four students broke them is..."

"Irrelevant, of course," the headmaster hissed, "Potter and his friends can do as they please. Can't you, oh great Chosen One?"

"Sir, please...just let me..." Harry tried.

"Silence," the older wizard snapped and then continued in a deceptively calm tone. "You realise...that by breaching the patient confidentiality wards, I would be within my legal rights to request a full Ministry hearing which could possibly lead to the four of you being expelled, relieved of your wands, and banned from working in any kind of medical or Ministry capacity?"

"Yes, sir," they replied, simultaneously. Fully aware that they'd done wrong, they were prepared to accept the consequences. Naturally, Hermione had done her research beforehand and they were aware of the legal repercussions.

"However," Severus grimaced, "As a former Death Eater, I have fewer rights than a vampire...so...legally, I can do nothing."

"Severus!" Poppy exclaimed.

"As headmaster though," he continued, slowly, not taking his eyes off the four students. "I am able to make even the events of last year seem infinitely more preferable to you. I could make your remaining months here worse than any torture you can imagine...and from what you've read...you know...I have plenty of expertise," the headmaster growled, slamming his hand down onto the file which was on his desk, making them jump.

"Professor..." Hermione bravely tried to speak, but Severus' dark eyes turned on her and she stopped.

"If you have any sense...Miss Granger...of self preservation...any at all, I suggest that you, all of you, wipe that look from your faces at once!"

"What look, sir?" she asked, confused.

"Pity!" he growled, swiping his hand across the desk, knocking over his papers, ink bottles, quills, trinkets and the medical file, causing its pages to scatter haphazardly on the floor at their feet.

His lack of robes did nothing to detract from his graceful movement as he swept from behind his desk and they found themselves taking an unconscious step backwards. "How dare you pity me?!" he hissed, stepping over the papers as he moved. "If you had a brain cell between you, you'd be fleeing the castle right now!"

Minerva knew just as well as Poppy and Albus, that it was difficult not to pity a wizard who'd been abused as a child, who showed such academic promise as Severus had, only to have ended up at the feet of a tortuous madman.

"Severus..." Minerva stepped forwards, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. He turned to glare at her but he didn't move away, nor did he shrug off her hand. The deputy headmistress then directed her attention to her four Gryffindors. "We've been waiting...I trust you have an exceptionally good explanation for your actions," she said.

"Entertainment, I imagine," Severus remarked, angrily.

"That wasn't why we..." Harry cried, indignantly.

"Of course not," he scoffed."

"We just wanted to know..."

"It was none of your business. You had no right...no possible reason..." the older wizard said, shaking his head, his long hair falling about his shoulders.

"We were only trying to help..." Ginny protested again but Snape sneered at her.

"Help?" he repeated the word with disdain. "The only thing you've 'helped' is yourselves into a mess of trouble you can't even begin to comprehend! This is far worse than sneaking into the Restricted Section...yes, Granger, I am aware of your midnight wanderings."

At this, Hermione had the decency to look a little sheepish as he continued.

"Medical oaths are serious! I told you keeping that bloody file was bad idea," he said to Poppy.

"It was well protected," she insisted.

"How long were you planning this little raid?" Severus rounded on Harry.

"Sir?" Harry questioned.

"One simply doesn't break the wards on the medical records on a whim, Potter. How long?"

"...Erm...a while."

"A while," the man mocked. "And it didn't occur to any of you in that time, that what you were doing was the height of stupidity?"

"Well, actually, it did...erm...sir."

"And what did you plan on doing with this knowledge once you'd found it? Tell the Ministry, perhaps? Do they give awards for the most time spent wounded? Is that it? Another Order of Merlin for me? Or were you planning to sell it all to the Prophet instead, I'm sure you'd make a fortune! I can see the headlines now...Death Eater tortured at the hands of his master...Would I make the front page again, do you think?" he asked, mockingly.

"No, we'd never..." Ginny protested.

"Well, it's gratifying to know that you have limits, Miss Weasley," Minerva said.

"We were only trying to find something about the Dark Mark!" Harry exclaimed.

"Prat," Ron grumbled.

"I heard...Moony...I mean, Professor Lupin tell Mr. Weasley about it," Harry explained.

"What exactly...did you hear?" Severus asked, dangerously.

"That it's still hurting you and that someone who had the mark in Azkaban went mad...because of it. We were trying to find something to help...you."

"While, of course, we've been sitting idle the entire time," Poppy rolled her eyes.

"You didn't honestly think we've not been doing everything in our power to..." Minerva said, incredulously.

"That's not what we meant," Harry said, quickly, "We just thought...we could...help...find something, maybe."

"Albus...I have a sudden urge to blast your portrait to pieces," the dark wizard grumbled.

"And why's that, dear boy?" Albus asked, cheerily.

"You encouraged this rule breaking nonsense."

"It didn't occur to you ask someone about it before bringing down the medical wards?" Poppy asked.

"Harry asked me..." Remus remembered. "I didn't think anything of it. I didn't tell him anything about it. I swore to you I wouldn't, Severus. I certainly never expected them to do something like this," he sighed. "I'm sorry, headmaster. It's my fault. I take full responsibility. I've been distracted, clearly, I..."

"Stop prattling," Severus ordered before turning back to the Gryffindors. "So...you wanted to 'help' me?" he mocked, "Stupid bloody Gryffindors."

"Language, young man!" Phineas Black scowled at him.

"Really, Phineas, you swear worse than him in a morning, and that's saying something," Dippet chuckled back.

"And now you pity me," the headmaster surmised, ignoring the bickering portraits.

"No...well...yes...I mean, it's..." Harry frowned. "We didn't expect...what I mean is...I owe you...we owe you. And I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for everything you've done. I know this...probably wasn't the best way to try but...well, if I'd have asked you it's not like you would've told me anything and I...I did ask you...a few times when we were...in the Occlumency lessons, but you didn't say anything."

"Because it's none of your business, Potter! Not everything revolves around you."

"He never said it does," Ron said before he could stop himself, "We were just trying to help!"

"You thought I'd appreciate it?"

"...No," Harry answered.

"But that didn't stop you."

"No. Neither did the consequences. Hermione read about them and we still..."

"You still broke all the rules yet again. I realise as the 'Chosen One'..."

"It's got nothing to do with that," Harry shook his head. "I just thought maybe...my scar used to hurt when...when he was alive but it doesn't anymore. So I thought if we could figure out why the Mark still..."

"The Mark is different from your scar, stupid boy."

"Yeah, that's why Hermione said...sir."

"Oh?" Severus raised an eyebrow and blinked his gaze over at her. "And what exactly does 'the brightest witch of her age' think about it?" he drawled, "Bearing in mind, some of the most talented witches and wizards at Hogwarts have been working on this, despite my warnings, and you think you know something they don't."

"You got rid of my scar, professor," she replied, boldly. "Of course I wanted to help. I figured out how you did it after about a week..."

"What did I tell you, Severus," Albus muttered smugly.

"The favour cannot be returned."

"I know that, sir. That spell only works on scars. The Dark Mark isn't a scar..."

"So speaks the voice of wisdom," the man scoffed.

"But I think I know why...the Mark is causing you pain," she said, quite confidently.

"Just how did you figure it out?" Remus asked, intrigued. Only he, along with a select few members of the staff and healers at St. Mungo's and the Ministry knew the truth.

"Yeah, 'Mione," Ron furrowed his brow, "I know you're a genius an' all but you never said..."

"I only just thought of it...I read something in the file."

"There's nothing to be done," Severus said, resolutely.

"How can you be sure...sir?" Harry asked, respectfully.

"It's my Dark Mark, Potter, I would know."

"I think...he's right," Hermione said to Harry.

"How wonderful. It doesn't change the fact that you broke the law," Poppy said.

"What exactly is your theory, Miss Granger?" Albus asked.

"Is this really the best time for..." Minerva sighed.

"Indulge an old man, please."

"Well, sir," Hermione began, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. "I thought it was strange...I know we'll never be the best of friends, but Draco Malfoy and his mother wrote to Harry, they needed someone to vouch for them. We'd already been talking about the Mark then and I wrote to Draco and I said I'd vouch for him...if he told me about it," she confided.

"Very Slytherin," Snape said with grudging respect.

"I would've vouched for him anyway. I don't think he's an inherently bad wizard and keeping him locked up won't do him any good. Erm...has anything been decided about that yet or..."

"Miss Granger," he snapped back.

"Right, well, he told me his mother never took the Mark but his father was suffering the same pain that other people in Azkaban were. But that he wasn't. I thought...maybe because he was younger and in better health...maybe he could just fight it off better than a prisoner could."

"Wrong."

"I know," she replied, quietly.

"Next theory, if you would."

"Sir, I really..."

"That wasn't a request," he snapped and she nodded.

"Erm...after that I thought it could be because the dark magic in the Mark was trying to escape somehow..."

"Also incorrect."

"Yes. When Vol...when his..." she corrected after a glare from Severus, "'Soul' left Harry's scar, he said it hurt and it did nearly kill him..."

"It did kill him," Ron muttered but Ginny elbowed him in the stomach.

"Potter's scar was the mark of a Horcrux. Really, I'm disappointed."

"The Dark Mark isn't a scar or a Horcrux it's..."

"Yes?"

"Well, I think it's a magical pledge of allegiance. I couldn't find much written about them..."

"Hence your midnight wanderings," Remus nodded.

"Mmmm," she admitted, "If it wasn't such dark magic...I'd say it was...beautiful. It's so intricate."

"The Mark is many things but beautiful is not one of them," Severus sneered.

"Sorry, sir," she said, embarrassed.

"Continue, Miss Granger," Albus promoted, kindly.

"Draco said something...he said you'd told him...more than once, that he was never loyal to Vol...to him, and that that made all the difference."

"You assumed, perhaps, that I was being sentimental?" Severus remarked.

"I did."

"Naturally."

"Well, he is your godson. I didn't think you were being literal until I read that file...sir."

"And what was so important in the file that you couldn't deduce from blackmailing my godson?"

"The Mark didn't start to hurt until you had to go back to...him...in our fourth year."

"The Dark Lord was dead before that."

"But he wasn't really dead, was he, sir? That's what the Horcruxes were for. He's dead now and this is..."

"Yes?"

"His punishment," she finished.

"But ol' snake face is dead. For good. How can he 'punish' anyone?" Ron asked.

"It's not a Horcrux," Remus lectured, "But it's made from You Know Who's magic," he said, avoiding the name, knowing full well that Severus detested it being said in his presence for good reason. "If you were loyal, the magic in the Mark was designed to latch onto your own. It's an irreversible process. After his death it seems to have been designed to..."

"To remove those who were once loyal to him as though he were some kind of ancient god," Minerva scoffed.

"And if you were only loyal for just a second," Hermione said, "That's all it would take. Draco Malfoy was never loyal..."

"But he's a total git!" Ron protested.

"He might be a git, Ronald, but the fact remains, he wasn't loyal to him. So the Mark can't hurt him."

"Quite correct, Granger," Severus sighed, running a pale hand through his hair, messing some of the dark strands from the ribbon it was tied back in. "At one point, I was one of the most loyal, as was Lucius. The Mark has embedded itself deep within our magic and without the Dark Lord, it's doing what it was designed to. You can't stop it any more than I can. So you see, you've wasted your time. Now...20 points for know-it-all-ism, I think, and 100 a piece from each house for interfering in my affairs and for breaking the law," he ground out.

"After everything we've been through...do you really think we'd care about house points, sir?" Ron couldn't stop himself from asking even though it seemed ridiculously unfair to take points from every house.

"You may not, but the rest of the school does. You have six months left. I will do my utmost to make you feel as unwelcome here as a sock amidst house elves but I will not be alone. After six months of being completely loathed by this entire castle you'll see that loyalty is a fickle thing."

"Do you always have to be so dramatic, Severus," Albus lamented.

"I'd hardly call this dramatic. Your golden Gryffindors broke the law, disregarded the Healer's Oath, not to mention, once again, they went snooping around in other people's business."

"But their intentions..."

"Damn their intentions!"

"We can't simply do nothing, Albus," Minerva agreed, "This is a rather serious offence, I'm afraid. Honourable though your intentions are, you have to realise that some things are beyond your control."

"But...we can't just do nothing," Harry protested.

"We haven't been 'doing nothing'," Poppy scoffed.

"We'd have had months to consider the problem if you'd come clean about this curse sooner," Minerva berated the headmaster.

"Hmmm," the man grumbled. Clearly he'd heard this all before.

"What about Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione asked, "I may not like him...but it would destroy Draco if anything happened to him."

It was true they'd never be best friends, but they'd both agreed to some kind of warped truce in their letters and, kind hearted as she was, she'd not wish the death of a parent on anyone.

"You think I don't know that?!" Severus hissed.

Lucius had once been his friend, and Severus was, he'd proven, a very loyal friend no matter what that friend did. They only reason he'd agreed to be a 'lab rat' to Poppy and the others was to find something to help Lucius. The man was weak and quite possibly near death, locked in Azkaban away from his family who knew full well what awaited him.

"We're doing what we can for Malfoy senior," Minerva remarked.

"But Draco didn't say anything about..."

"He doesn't know," Severus interrupted her.

"Why?! He's worried sick!"

"False hope is cruel, Miss Granger. Lucius and I knew what we were agreeing to when we took the Mark. We're both fully prepared for the consequences."

"You...spoke to him...about this?" she inferred.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh," he repeated, mockingly. He sighed heavily and turned to Remus. "For now...get them out of my sight," he ordered. The werewolf nodded and lead the four students out of the office.

"Legally, headmaster...I have to inform the hospital...and at worst...the Ministry as well," Poppy said, "And I'm supposed to do it as soon as possible."

"Then what happens?" Minerva asked.

"At best...I get a professional wrist slapping."

"And at worst?" Severus asked.

"There's an in investigation into my work, my practices and why four students were able to break my wards. They'll look into the file they stole...and the allegations I made in it. I know you valve your privacy, Severus...but they won't care about that."

"I told you that file was a..."

"I know...I'm beginning to think you were right," the matron sighed.

"If we don't inform the..." Minerva began.

"Thats not an option," Severus interrupted quickly, "Potter and his cohorts break enough rules. I will not encourage..."

"And what happens when the Ministry sees that file? Do you think they'll be sympathetic? They'll use it as proof that you're unfit to do your job and they'll have you out of the school before the end of the week," Minerva said.

"Am afraid I rather agree," Albus remarked.

"Of course you would," Severus said.

"So...what do we do?" Poppy asked him and it was a while before she got an answer.

Chapter 34: 20th September 1998

Amanda Taylor's Problem

20th September 1998

Amanda Taylor was small for an eleven year old. She had a round face with bright blue eyes and long, curly brown hair. She adored books and so far, she had proven to be a model student. The professors were going so far as to say she could very likely end up being the Slytherin version of Hermione Granger if she carried on the same way. She was quiet, exceptionally so, she didn't tend to talk to anyone at meal times and all of her free time was spent in the library. She was also a Muggleborn and so many Slytherins took an instant dislike to her.

There was enough trouble in the house of Serpents after the war and many had turned against their own. So the young Amanda began to bare the brunt of their anger.

She was walking alone through the corridor next to the open courtyard with only her books for company that morning, while everyone else chatted happily to their new friends about their next lessons, when suddenly someone shoved her precious books from her arms and ran, hissing 'bookworm' and 'Slytherin snake' as they ran. It wasn't the first time it had happened and she thought that it probably wouldn't be the last either. She also knew who had done it and she really didn't know why the first year Gryffindor hated her so much.

She'd never really had friends in the muggle schools she'd been to before either and her muggle parents had often told that she should try harder to fit in. She hadn't been given much of a chance here though.

As the corridor quickly emptied, she sighed and was about to kneel down to pick up her books when they suddenly sorted themselves into a neat pile and floated up into the air where she could easily grasp them. She blinked in confusion. She looked up to see the imposing form of Severus Snape standing before her.

"Headmaster?!" she exclaimed, "Did you...thank you, sir."

Severus had quickly gained a reputation for being rather elusive and this was perhaps one of the first times he'd left his office since the start of the term. Well, at least it was during the day time. It was easy to stalk the corridors at night when you were used to disappearing into the shadows.

But, after a while, and with Minerva and Albus deciding not to give him a moment's peace, he had practically forced himself to take a walk through the castle. He really hadn't planned on being seen by anyone, let alone a student, but when he'd seen the girl's books shoved to the floor, he'd found himself turning back to help her.

He said nothing as she clutched at the books in her hands like they were valuable somehow. He knew that look well.

"I erm...I tripped and I...I dropped my books..." the girl rambled, unconvincingly.

"I see," Severus replied, quietly.

"I...I really should...I'll just..." she muttered before walking quickly around him, intending to make her way down the now quiet corridor.

"Is your clumsiness limited only to when Mr. Jackson and his cohorts scurry past you?" Severus asked her and she stopped moving and turned as white as a ghost.

"I...I don't know...I mean, I..."

"Your Prefects are there for a reason, Miss. Taylor, as is your Head of House."

"Well...Professor Slughorn always seems...kinda busy...and I didn't want to...bother anyone...I guess."

"Clearly Mr. Jackson doesn't mind 'bothering' you."

"...No...sir," she sniffed.

"Why?"

"I didn't do anything..."

"Neither did I imply that you had. But...people don't always need a reason," he remarked, insightfully.

Were she perhaps a little older, she would have wondered just how he knew so much about it, but children rarely think about such things.

"They just...don't like me," she answered.

"And why is that?" Severus asked.

"Don't know, sir."

"Do you not?" he asked, raising a perceptive eyebrow at her.

"Well...I guess it's 'cause...I...read too much."

"And reading too much is a problem?"

"When you're just a kid, yeah...sir. Mum says I shouldn't read so much," the girl sighed. "She says no one likes a 'know it all', but it's not like I want to be a 'know it all'. I just like to read. I tried to be nice...but I don't know...what to do. Sir...what should I do...sir?" she asked, eyes full of a childish need for guidance.

As a Slytherin, even though Severus was no longer their Head of House, she had been told by the Prefects, carefully chosen by the man himself so's not to spread the Dark Lord's ideology, that the man was first and foremost, one of them. From everything else she'd heard in her short amount of time in the wizarding world, she believed that the headmaster was a brave man, albeit a little scary. But maybe, like in many of the books she'd read, maybe there was more to the intimidating headmaster than first met the eye; it was a valuable lesson for any child to learn and Amanda had learned it from many, many books.

"...You have...options, Miss. Taylor," he remarked after a moment. He couldn't help but notice that she was in a remarkable situation to his own, many years ago and he couldn't simply just walk away and leave her there.

"What options, sir?"

"You fight back," he said simply. Possibly not the best advice to give to a student considering the fact that he was the headmaster, but then again, he wasn't the world's most conventional headmaster and he had little sympathy for childhood bullies that mirrored his own.

"I...thought we weren't allowed to fight students..." Amanda furrowed her brow.

"Be subtle. You are a Slytherin."

"I don't..." she frowned, timidly, clearly she wasn't the fighting type.

"Then you tell your Prefects."

"But I...I don't want them to think I've...done something wrong or...He'll just be put in detention and then he'll hate me more and it'll just get worse and I..."

"Then do nothing," Severus said.

"Couldn't I just...ask him...why he hates me?"

"You could...but do you expect an answer?" he raised an eyebrow.

"...No. Not really," she sighed. "I should go..." she added after a minute before practically running off down the corridor.

What many people didn't know about Severus Snape was that he was used to dealing with the bullies of young Slytherins. It was the house which no one else defended and so he had to. Of course, those students that he'd helped came to realise that they couldn't tell others about this and they learned to respect the fact that he was so feared by others. They didn't need to be afraid of the Dungeon Bat like everyone else. Young miss Taylor learned this rather quickly.

After the incident in the corridor, she noticed that instead of Micheal Jackson tormenting her again, he gave her nervous looks and tended to run away. As time passed, he began to talk to her and they became friends. Though she was sorely tempted, she never asked about why he'd been so cruel to her or why he'd changed his attitude. She felt as though she had the headmaster to thank though. Somehow. Though it wouldn't be until her last day of school when she'd work up the nerve to actually ask the man about it and even then she didn't get a straight answer.

Chapter 35: 30th December 2003

Harry's Promotion

30th December 2003

Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror Office, was dead. The man to succeed him was Harry Potter and his first assignment was to track down the Dark Wizards that had killed his mentor. Robards had been in Eastern Europe following rumours that there was a growing movement of 'Neo Death Eaters' and that was to be Harry's destination. He wasn't quite sure how long he was to be there for either so before he left the country so, despite the fact that it was still Christmas time, after saying his goodbyes to his family, he visited Hogwarts and was now sitting with Remus, Tonks and Minerva in the werewolf's warm quarters.

"More Death Eaters," Tonks shuddered with a grimace. "Great. Just what we need," she grumbled.

"I'd hoped that the rumours were...well...just rumours," Remus sighed.

"Guess not," his wife said.

"Mmmm," Harry hummed.

"And there's nothing we could say to stop you from going?" Remus asked Harry.

"It's my job. I have to go," Harry replied. "And I owe it to Gawain. I know he wasn't the most...likeable...of Aurors but he was a good man. He didn't deserve what he got," he said, thinking of the man's violent death.

"No, he didn't," Tonks agreed.

"This whole thing is such a mess," the Auror sighed, tiredly.

"Harry..." Remus began but the younger wizard stood quickly.

"It's getting late," Harry declared, of wanting to hear the same argument again, "I have to go."

"Do be careful," Minerva said, kindly.

As he walked the dark, deserted corridors of Hogwarts, Harry pulled his travelling cloak tightly around him. He couldn't help but feel guilty about the whole thing. Gawain Robards had no family, so he worked every day unless he was ill, and even then he'd probably try his damnedest to drag himself to the Office. Harry had wanted to help his mentor, but he also wanted to spend time with his family. There was only so much time in the week that he actually did see them and not to do so at Christmas seemed a terrible sacrifice to make. Gawain had said as much to him and all but ordered him home. Maybe if he'd ignored the man, he'd still be alive.

"Potter," the headmaster drawled and Harry stopped. "A little old to be wandering the castle after dark, aren't you?" he asked, sarcastically.

"Old habits," the Auror smiled.

Severus was wearing a thick travelling cloak with a hood which he pushed back when Harry turned around to face him.

"Going out?" Harry asked.

"No," the headmaster answered, brushing the snow from his cloak.

Not only was it cold outside, it was also snowing and considering that he felt the cold more since his Nagini's attack, he found he hated winter more and more with each passing year. His cloak had been a gift from Narcissa and Draco, they'd had it lined with fur and enchanted, though obviously not by them personally because they were without magic, to always keep him warm and it seemed to work very well.

"Oh," Harry hummed. "And...erm...how's...how's Malfoy?" he felt compelled to ask.

Severus grimaced a little and Harry started at him, confused. "The man's a spoilt egocentric now lacking his magic and his money. How do you think he is?" the older wizard replied, sighing.

"So...it's not...going too well then?"

"He's broke two toasters, set fire to some soup, threatened my house elf with freedom and smashed a mirror...today."

"...He set fire to soup?" Harry repeated, incredulously.

"Don't ask," Severus shook his head.

He'd been at his Manor for the last week for the Christmas holiday and since Lucius had been released from Azkaban, all the wizard seemed to do all day was find new ways to complain about the lack of his magic every hour. He despised everything muggle. It didn't seem to matter that he and and Narcissa tried to show him that living without magic was possible, however much she still hated it. With the full moon due in a week, he was coming to the castle to give Remus his potion, even though he didn't really need it today, and to get away from Lucius' complaints for a while. He knew his friend was grateful for being released, but it was never going to be easy for him to adapt to life without magic, money or influence.

After a quiet, albeit cold walk through Hogsmede, the relentless banging in his head had begun to subside only for him to find himself face to face with Harry Potter. Perhaps a visit to The Hogs Head was in order soon.

"I'm erm...I was talking to Moony," Harry said, conversationally. "I got promoted," he said.

"To...what?"

"...Head of the Auror Office."

"Am I to assume that your predecessor did not retire?" the headmaster surmised. Aurors weren't known to retire really. They generally kept going until a Dark Wizard caught up with them. Remus and Tonks were odd exceptions.

"No."

"Ah," Severus pursed his lip. "My...condolences," he said though clearly his heart wasn't in it. Unlike Severus himself, Harry had actually gotten along quite well with Gawain Robards and most people knew it.

"Thanks," Harry smiled, ruefully, "Molly said you were coming to the Burrow for New Years..."

"I said I might..." Severus said as he did every year. Sometimes he did go and sometimes he didn't but Molly and Arthur never held it against him if he didn't go.

"I won't...be there this year," Harry said. "But I left something for you. Found it in the vaults last month and I figured you could use it for something. Took me ages to file the paperwork for it."

"Is this a bribe?"

"No...maybe...is it working?" Harry asked while Severus just stared at him. "I just...i wouldn't normally...can I ask a favour...please?"

Intrigued, Severus nodded and leaned back against the stone wall, crossing his arms. Harry sighed and cast a silent 'muflatio' around them.

"There's no one here," Severus told him.

"Better safe than sorry," the Auror replied.

"My office then," Severus said and reached out his hand from his cloak. After waiting for a nod from Harry, he grabbed the other wizards' forearm and apparated them both to his office.

Once there, Severus shrugged out of his travelling cloak, tossed it over his desk and wandered into his sitting room before the portraits even had the chance to notice him. Most of them were probably asleep anyway. He lit the fire with a small wave of his hand and sat down while Harry walked cautiously into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Sit down," Severus said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't bite," he added.

Harry scoffed a little as he sat on one of the familiar comfortable chairs around the fire. "I really don't have a lot of time..." he said.

"Then get to the point."

"...I'm guessing you've heard the rumours...about Death Eaters...Neo Death Eaters they're calling them. They killed Gawain when he was tracking them in Europe and I have to find them..."

"And what exactly am I supposed to do about it?"

"About that? Nothing...it's my job to find them and I will," Harry replied. "I'd have been there with him now but I missed last Christmas and he practically ordered me back home last week...and maybe if I'd said 'no' he'd still be alive."

"Or you'd both be dead," Severus said, stoically.

"...Yeah," Harry sighed. "Anyway...we didn't find anything to prove there's any of them here...but if there is...then you'll probably be on their hit list too."

"How terrible," the man retorted and Harry sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"These...people mean business, they don't mess around. I know you're more than capable of protecting yourself and the school if necessary but I could hardly leave without warning you. I don't know why...but they're copying the Death Eaters in every way. They've killed muggles, Aurors and children and...we think they've had at least one...revel," the Auror said.

"...Then...they must be in contact with someone who was there in those early days. Those revels stopped almost as quickly as they started; the Dark Lord tired of them easily. Don't ask me why."

"We suspected as much...them being in contact with someone, I mean. But we can't figure out who."

"It wouldn't necessarily have to be a branded Death Eater or even someone known to the Ministry. Not all of the faithful bore the Mark," Severus said. "Those revels were huge, there were hundreds of people who attended and it's not as though we kept a list."

"More to the pity," Harry grumbled.

"Well...what's this favour you wanted to ask, then?" the headmaster asked after a moment.

"You're not going to like it."

"That's usually implied when someone's asks a 'favour'," Severus replied, dryly.

"You're really not going to like it," Harry reiterated.

"I like this stalling even less."

"Will you...erm...Kingsley and I...we're worried, you see...and I...I wanted to ask if you'd...just keep in touch with the Ministry every now and then...just to let us know that..."

"No."

"But we're worried! If these people are copying Death Eaters then they're going to try and rise through the ranks by targeting their enemies. You and me...the Weasley's...even the Malfoys could be on their list now!"

"I'm more than capable of..."

"I know you are but that makes you an even more attractive target. They'll get more favour by targeting you even if they lose. Just let someone know that you're alright. Just a one word letter...insult them if you want, I don't care. If something happens, you'll probably catch wind of it first and if they even try and sneak up on you..."

"There'll be nothing left for your people to interrogate."

"Good," Harry said, "These new Death Eaters aren't pulling their punches so I don't see why we should either. Just...please...be careful. Gawain was maybe just as strong as you and they killed him. People are saying...this could start another war. We were all just starting to get over the last one...we don't need another. "

"It rarely waits for a convenient time."

"No," the Auror sighed, "No, it doesn't."

"Next you'll be telling me you want an Auror guard or two at my door to keep watch," Severus scoffed. Harry remained silent and this only made the older wizard suspicious. "Surely you'd know better than do suggest something so stupid, wouldn't you?" Severus demanded.

"I'd like to post some people to keep watch...but you'd probably sneak by them easily."

"Or turn them into potion ingredients."

"So...no...there won't be any guards," Harry smiled, "As long as you keep in touch with Kingsley or with my deputy, Erina Kazmov."

"That's hardly a threat."

"I'm not trying to threaten you," Harry told him. "I'd never do that. I'm trying to be...a friend," he admitted and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked, sceptically.

"Really," Harry insisted.

"I'll never understand you Gryffindors," Severus shook his head.

"Maybe it's best not to try," the younger wizard smiled.

"Hmmm."

Chapter 36: 13th February 1999

13th February 1999

An Impossible Cure

Last night, Severus had been talking to Minerva, Remus and Tonks, or rather to be specific, they'd invited themselves into his private sitting room and they'd been sharing a quiet drink at the end of the teaching week. He really had tried his best to prevent them from making it a habit. Really, he had. He'd been at his most vitriolic when they'd first started their 'Friday night chat' or whatever they were calling it now. At first he'd been pleased to note that Tonks, as ever, seemed the easiest to rile up, but her husband easily placated her and neither Remus nor Minerva would rise to the occasion no matter how much he baited them.

No matter how hard he tried to repel them, they'd simply refused to leave and when the pain from his Dark Mark had worsened, he'd really been motivated to get rid of them. The last thing he wanted was for them to find out about the curse. But then he'd actually blacked out from the pain and they'd demanded an explanation. Suffice to say, the secret was out.

He'd spent months hiding it from them, months of secretly trying to find a cure only to find one that he couldn't possibly use and to be embarrassed in front of them when he blacked out. He was sure that he had terrible luck.

Now, he was sitting in Azkaban prison opposite Lucius as they sat on both ends of the small cell. It wasn't exactly spacious, so there wasn't that much distance between them.

"Well," Lucius sighed heavily. "You did say they'd find out eventually," the blonde wizard said.

"You seem very calm about it," his friend remarked.

"What can I do either way?" Lucius shrugged. "Either you've lost your touch for secret keeping or they're very patient detectives," he said.

"No...they're just nosy. They don't know when to leave things alone," Severus replied, "They've not let me have a moment's peace for months. They were never like this before."

"...Hmmm," Lucius hummed after a minute of silent thought.

"Not helpful, Lucius," Severus drawled.

"You seem a little tense, Severus," Lucius retorted.

"Of course I am! You should be too. You have no idea how annoying they can be..."

"Oh, really?" Lucius raised an eyebrow and gestured to his prison chains which still bound his wrists and legs. "Those 'annoying' Gryffindors of yours landed me in here in the first place," he said.

"Even this place is preferable to going back to the castle," the headmaster said.

"I can take your place if you like."

"Nice try."

"A wizard can dream," Lucius shrugged, "Besides...it's not like I want to die. If they can find something to stop this..."

"They won't," Severus said, resolutely.

"Of course they will," Lucius scoffed. "They like you now...despite everything. It's highly unlikely that they'll stand by as this curse kills you...and when you're saved, you can save me."

"Will you never change?"

"Purebloods never change," he replied and Severus looked at him sardonically but he didn't say anything to the contrary. "Normally I'd agree with you about this curse...but...they defeated the Dark Lord...and all of us...I suppose I'd be foolish to dismiss their efforts after that," he added.

"So you'll believe that they can stop the curse but not that I can."

"They're motivated," Lucius explained, "They got you an Order of Merlin for crying out loud. They're not going to let you die now."

Severus sighed and rested his head back against the cold stone wall of the prison cell. "It's not about whether they 'let' it happen or not. I know far more about Dark Magic than they ever will. I've looked into every possible way to counter the curse and I found nothing. Not one thing that's even remotely useful..."

"Well, that's not exactly true, is it?" Lucius remarked.

"That isn't an option, I told you," Severus countered quickly.

"But, Severus..."

"No."

"If you just asked him..."

"No."

"Then we both die...horribly," Lucius said. "If they're as stubborn as you say, then surely they'll come to the same conclusion that using..."

"No," Severus repeated and Lucius groaned.

"By Salazar you're irritating tonight," the pureblood hissed. "The Potter brat won't let you die now. We both know that. And fortunately for us, he's not the brightest wizard in the world. He doesn't need to know the risks..."

"And when the spells kill him, what sort of life do you suppose you'll have? You'll end up back in here with the Dementors in a cell next to me, and it will all have been for nothing."

"If you're worried about loosing your Order of Merlin when the boy dies I'll buy you a new one!"

"I don't care about the bloody award!"

"I'm starting to wonder if you care about anything!" Lucius exclaimed. "You might have resigned yourself to death, but I haven't! I thought I had but...I haven't. I want to see my son again. I miss my wife! And if you won't do it then I will. I'll save us both, Severus. Just get me out of here and I'll do the rest. You can claim ignorance."

"...No."

Lucius sighed and mirrored Severus' own position, leaning back against the wall with his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. "So...we do nothing, then?" he asked, much more calmly, "We just...die."

"I can't work miracles, Lucius," Severus admitted.

"It's not like we haven't killed people before," Lucius said. "What's one more?" he asked, "He dies...or he might die...and we live. I really don't see the problem."

"The problem is that he is the boy who vanquished the Dark Lord. We kill him and the Wizarding world...or, at least Wizarding Britain...will kill us."

"It's worth a try...if you think there's even a possibility..."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you," Severus shook his head.

"If you think you can use Potter's blood..."

"Not his blood. The Dark Lord's. Potter's blood was mixed with his own when he was resurrected. It's linked even if one of them is dead. But there's no guarantee it would work. Potter wasn't even born when the Dark Mark was created. It's only been a few years since their blood was mixed, it might not have been enough time for it to have affected the Dark Lord's curse at all."

"I don't care. I say we try."

"No."

"Why the hell not?!"

"No, Lucius," Severus glared at him. "I'll keep looking," he said, "And you'll be the first to know if I find anything."

"What about your Gryffindor helpers?"

"I'm several months ahead of them, research wise. It'll take a while for them to catch up...if they do at all."

"And...if someone happens to visit me...looking for answers..."

"You'll keep quiet," Severus said.

"And if I don't?"

"Then the Dementors will be the least of your worries," he answered, staring at his friend with eyes that had made others flee in terror.

Lucius had seen that look before when they were younger and they'd sent by the Dark Lord to dispose of his enemies. Many muggles and wizards had seen that look as they'd died and he didn't want to be one of them.

"...Fine," Lucius relented. "I know that look. I'll keep quiet...and I suppose, I'll go quietly, too."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"I'm being dramatic?"

"Now you're being pedantic."

"You're the one threatening me, I'd say that's worse."

"Pedantic," Severus reiterated.

"...I don't understand you at all," Lucius admitted, foregoing what had quickly become their habitual banter. "You're in pain, we both are. We're both dying and this is likely the only thing that will save us. You're the one who told me not to give up and now you're the one who's..."

"I haven't..."

"Yes, you have. Why does it matter so much to you if the Potter boy dies? I understand keeping him alive back then because it mattered so much to Dumbledore. I even understand you masquerading as a spy in our ranks..."

"I wasn't 'masquerading'. I was a spy." Severus corrected but Lucius shrugged. Talk of his betrayal never went down well and most of the time now, Lucius acted as though Severus had been true to the Dark Lord all along.

"But why do you care if the boy lives or dies anymore?"

"...You wouldn't understand," Severus replied slowly.

"Try me," Lucius promoted but his friend showed no signs of answering him. Instead, he turned his head away and glared at the wall rather than at Lucius himself. "Fine...keep your secrets," he said, "But that's what I want engraved on my tombstone; Lucius Abraxus Malfoy, killed by Severus' secrets."

"Marble or limestone?"

"Peasant. I want gold," Lucius replied haughtily and his friend scoffed.

A.N. Okay, I admit that I really had no idea where I was going with the whole Dark Mark curse thing and I probably should have thought about the cure a bit more before I wrote it all. I kinda made it clear enough that Severus and Lucius survive the curse but I had no idea how. Anyway, this is literally the only thing I could come up with as a potential cure. Let me know what you think about it.

Chapter 37: 12th September 1998

Lesson Two: Disaster

12th September 1998

That evening, when Harry entered the headmasters' office for his Occlumency lesson, the first thing he did was hand over the old, battered copy of 'Advanced Potion Making' to Snape. He'd retrieved it only that morning after talking with Ginny and they'd decided that it would be best to return it to its rightful owner.

The headmaster stared at him, curiously and though he did eventually take the book from Harry's hand, he didn't seem to understand. The headmaster seemed intrigued and he stared at the book for a second before turning his attention to Harry.

"Explain," he demanded.

"Well...we...that is, me and Ginny hid it in the Room of Requirement after...well, we hid it...but we figured you should have it back."

"Why?"

"Because it's yours," Harry stated. "It really helped me, I learned a lot from it," he added.

"Perhaps too much," the headmaster replied and Harry sighed.

"It's better than the normal textbooks we use."

"And infinitely more dangerous," Severus said as he placed the book in a drawer of his desk which locked itself, magically.

While Harry couldn't help but agree, he also realised that even as a teenager, Snape probably wouldn't have wanted the book to fall into anyone else's hands so he couldn't help but wonder just how it had come to be left abandoned in a store cupboard in the potions classroom.

"You're thinking far too loudly, Potter," the older wizard sighed.

"...Sorry," Harry said, nervously.

"You should be," Severus stated, cooly, "Since it means that we're about to waste another hour trying to correct that."

Just as Snape had predicted, the hour passed and Harry had yet the repel the man from a single memory. He thought he'd gotten quite close once but that wasn't nearly enough to impress the headmaster and it wasn't quite enough to impress Harry himself, either.

"No improvement whatsoever," Severus concluded, finally lowering his wand.

"I'm...trying," Harry said, breathlessly, running a hand through his sweat drenched hair. An hour of Occulmecy was worse than a full day of Quidditch practice or weight training. It was exhausting.

"That is the point you seem to be missing. It doesn't matter how much you 'try.' You are not going to succeed. You are not capable of Occlumency and if I am forced to repeat myself one more time, I fear I'll be turning into a broken record," Snape enunciated.

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"The same as everyone else who can't learn it. You accept it."

"Aurors have to know at least..."

"It's not a requirement," Severus interrupted him, "Though it is, of course, advisable."

"And I've got a big enough target on my back as it is. This could help save my life...or other people's lives at some point."

"Then chose a job where lives aren't at risk," the man snapped.

"...Like what?"

"Poster boy?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"No, thanks," Harry replied, priding himself on not loosing his temper.

"I'd imagine it pays well," the man said, thoughtfully.

"Probably," Harry shrugged.

"Then do it."

"I don't care about the money."

"No...I imagine the Potter vault is full enough as it is," Severus taunted.

"I don't care about..."

"Everyone cares about money," the man said, sneering at him.

"Not me."

"Liar."

"I don't," Harry snapped back, staring right into the older wizards dark eyes. "I never really had any money when I was at the Dursley's and everything I had there was second hand. I got used to it. I don't need money to be happy."

"Oh, well, that is a relief to know that Saint Potter is 'happy' even without his fortune."

"Why do you always have to be so..."

"Yes, Potter?" Severus spoke, calmly raising an eyebrow when Harry trailed off, realising what he'd just said. "What am I?" the headmaster asked.

Harry sighed, his anger fading when he realised just what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He really didn't want to argue with the man but Snape but made it so incredibly easy. In fact, Harry was beginning to wonder if his idea of 'learning Occlumency' was a good idea. Maybe Ron was right and he was barking mad.

"You're...right," Harry sighed, "Maybe I'll never learn Occlumency. But I didn't learn the Patronus charm at first and..."

"This is far more complex than a Patronus."

"But I need this. I want to be an Auror and..."

"Not everyone gets the job they 'want'," Severus scoffed. "You think I wanted to be a teacher? Most just settle for what they can get."

"I don't know what else there is I can do!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm rubbish at everything else and I never really thought I'd need to plan out a career or anything when I'd probably just end up dead anyway!"

That at least, Severus could relate to, but what he couldn't understand was the boy's relentless drive to learn something which they both knew that he never would.

"Fine," Severus began, "You 'want' to be an Auror...but you don't want to learn Occlumency."

"I..."

"I've just spent the better part of an hour inside your head. You cannot lie to me. You find the skill a useful one, interesting even, but you don't care for it. So...tell me why you're here wasting my time before I..."

"I want to learn it!"

"Liar!" Severus hissed, lashing out with his wand and sending Harry hurtling across the room.

"I'm not lying!" Harry shouted back.

"Legillimens!" the headmaster ground out, forcing his way, easily inside Harry's tired and open mind.

Not having looked for the particular reason why Harry wanted to learn Occulemcy before, Severus hadn't seen the particular memory that practically gravitated towards him now.

Harry was sitting with Remus in front of a fire in the man's office and both looked quite determined.

"You're sure about this?" the werewolf asked him.

"Nope," Harry replied, "But I still have to try."

"He won't go easy on you."

"I know...not really his fault if he doesn't though is it?"

"Harry..."

"I'm a rubbish Occlumens..."

"Most people are. I don't think you understand just how rare the skill is. Luckily, Legillimency is pretty rare too so it doesn't really matter. The chances of meeting a Legillimens are...well, most people never do. I'm not saying it's not a remarkable opportunity, but why do you want to try again? From what I heard, it was a spectacular failure last time."

"It was," Harry scoffed.

"Then why..."

"He lied to Voldemort for years, Moony. I can't even keep the memories of what I had for dinner a secret when he's inside my head. I know I'll never be that good but I just want to know how he did it."

"Severus isn't likely to tell you," Remus said after a moment, "Or anyone for that matter. More importantly, he'll find out why you're..."

"Right...can you...make me forget this conversation."

"Harry...memory charms are complicated things and they can go very wrong. I wouldn't dream of risking the consequences on you...especially for something so trivial."

"But I..."

"No."

"But he'll..."

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you tried to trick a master Legillimens," Remus said, kindly but firmly.

"I'm not really trying to 'trick' him."

"Whatever you want to call it," Remus shrugged.

"You're not going to help me?"

"What can I do?" the man asked, "Maybe if you'd come to me before you asked Severus..."

"He was drinking himself silly! I had to do something! At least now he'll be too busy being angry at me for being too stupid to learn Occlumency than..."

"Harry...it's admirable that you care, really it is. But it's not your responsibility to..."

"He saved my life!" Harry exclaimed and Remus' expression softened.

"Yes, he did, more times than I can count. But this is hardly the best way to try and repay him, is it?"

"The Order of Merlin didn't work."

"You didn't expect it to. None of us did but I'd say he's made it more than clear that he doesn't uphold any kind of Life Debt in this case and it's obvious that he'd rather not discuss it all. I'd say you need to be very careful."

"Understatement of the year."

"I'm serious," Remus said.

"So am I. I know I'm being stupid and I know it'll all probably blow up in my face. I was never good at planning things anyway."

"Well, as a professor I can't condone it...but as your friend...and as someone who's trying his damnedest to be Severus' friend...all I can say is...good luck. And for the love of god, be patient!"

Harry took a shaky step back when Severus finally withdrew from his mind.

He could say, though he wouldn't be proud to admit, that he'd seen all the different kinds of anger that the headmaster could display. He'd seen the man shouting and hurling things across a classroom in a fit of uncontrollable rage. He'd seen the man all but attack a student with words that hurt worse than any curse. He'd also seen the controlled power behind a spell and the silent anger as well. The silence was the worst kind. It was the one that sent shivers down his spine. The only one he didn't quite know how to deal with.

"...Professor...I..." Harry began, his voice shaking but Severus stopped him simply by staring at him, his dark eyes narrowing, dangerously.

"Out," Severus said quietly, so quietly, in fact, that Harry wasn't quite sure he'd heard him.

"...Wh..."

"Get out!" the man repeated and lashed out with his wand, sending out a crude but effective spell which splintered the coffee table, shattered the chairs, destroyed the bookshelf and tore the drapes down, bringing the panes of glass from the window with it.

It wasn't the fact that Harry had lied about wanting to learn Occlumency that angered Severus. It was the fact that the boy genuinely cared about him. Since he'd laid eye on the child, his aim had been to hate him and to be hated in turn. Otherwise, the plan would have failed. Of course it made it easier that Harry looked like James Potter, and he really did hate James, so it hadn't been very difficult to be cruel.

Harry's memories were always full of emotion which he simply couldn't hide and Severus had seen and felt that emotion very clearly. He'd seen that the younger wizard had been concerned about his drinking and that he genuinely admired him. That wasn't supposed to happen. It was impossible. Perhaps he had been drinking a little too much lately. But if that's what he chose to in his spare time, then why should it bother anyone else? It was nothing to do with them. Furthermore, how could Potter admire him? How could you admire someone you should hate? It didn't make any sense to him at all. And, as usual, when faced with impossible emotion, Severus reacted with anger.

In the face of such anger, Harry had little choice but to leave the room and the door slammed shut behind him magically locking him out of the small study and forcing him back into the main office.

"That didn't sound at all promising, dear boy," Albus remarked rather cheerfully from his portrait above the headmaster's desk.

"I erm...I might've made a mistake," Harry admitted, walking over to the desk.

"Severus will come round," the portrait assured him.

"I doubt it. He was...really angry."

"Yes, but it usually fades...fairly quickly, actually."

"Doesn't seem like it," Harry said, listening to the sounds of crashing and smashing and spells crackling through the door.

"Trust me, Harry. I've seen it all too often, sadly. So, what was it? Did our dear Severus discover that Occlumency really wasn't what you wanted to learn after all?"

"How did you..."

"I may be a portrait, but I'm not stupid," Albus smiled.

"No...you're insane," Phineas Black retorted, "That's worse than stupid."

"I know it was...a bad idea," Harry sighed.

He really hadn't been able to think of anything else at the time though. He needed a way to talk to Severus even if it was all Occlumency based otherwise, the wizard would probably never speak one word to him ever again. After he left Hogwarts, there'd be no reason to see him again and Harry found himself regretting that.

"I'd hoped it'd take a little longer for him to figure it out," Albus replied.

"Me too."

"It seems that we both underestimated him."

"...Yeah," Harry nodded. "And after this...he'll probably have me expelled," he said.

"Oh, hardly that," the old man chuckled and Harry though, maybe he really was insane. Couldn't he hear the wizards' destructive anger that was happening just metres away from them? "Just give him a few days," Albus said, "Then come back."

"...Back...back here?"

"Certainly," he nodded.

"...But...won't he just..."

"Trust me," Albus repeated.

Chapter 38: 25th December 1998 Part 1

Christmas

25th December 1998 Part 1

A select few in the Order of the Phoenix had been told that Severus Snape lived in a muggle house, on a muggle street, in a muggle neighbourhood. But no one really expected it to be the truth. There was nothing muggle about Severus; he was a wizard through and through, or so they thought.

They'd been told that the anti apparition wards around his house were so strong that no one could apparate within a quarter of a mile of the house. So the three wizards had walked through streets of well kept houses with clean windows and green front gardens. But very quickly, the difference in the small town became apparent and Harry couldn't help but frown. It had taken only a matter of minutes to walk from one part of the town to the other but now, they were walking down what was quite possibly the most depressing, desolate street that Harry had ever seen in his entire life. It was raining of course, it always seemed to rain in Cokeworth and it was dark even though it was almost midday so this did nothing for the atmosphere of the place.

Despite the fact that it was Christmas Day, there was little to show for it on Spinner's End. Only one of the old back to back houses they passed had a few pitiful lights strung on the inside of one of the windows and most of the bulbs in it were broken.

Appearance wise, it was the complete opposite of Privet Drive. People here clearly didn't care about the same things; for one, no one had a front garden to impress anyone with and there were very few cars too. On Privet Drive, it was a wordless competition that if you had the best car and the greenest front garden, then you were the better people by far. At least, you'd have thought so from the way Vernon and Petunia acted.

"Watch your step, Harry," Arthur Weasley called out from in front of him.

As they passed down yet another winding, narrow alleyway piled with overfilled rubbish bins and decaying cardboard boxes, Harry almost fell flat on his face but Remus' quick reflexes had saved him from that humiliation. He caught the younger wizard by the arm with his free hand and pulled him back up. The werewolf smiled at him from beneath his muggle umbrella and Harry thanked him.

"Cheery place, isn't it?" Remus remarked.

"Yeah, sure...cheery," Harry muttered back, glancing around again.

"Arthur seems happy enough," the man replied.

He was right of course. The red headed wizard seemed fascinated by everything that he saw. But he did have an unyielding obsession with all things muggle so taking him to a muggle neighbourhood was probably the same as letting a child lose in Honeydukes for the first time.

"Snape won't be when he sees us," Harry grumbled.

"Professor Snape," Remus reminded him with a gentle smile.

"...Right. Why exactly are we doing this again?"

"It was your idea."

"Was not," Harry shot back, childishly and Remus snorted.

"Well, think of it this way then; if we hadn't come willingly, Molly would have lead us all here at wand point and then we'd have probably ended up before the Ministry for risking the exposure of magic."

"When he sees us here, he's not going to be be happy," Harry reiterated. In truth it really had been his idea, but now it seemed as though his Gryffindor courage was faking him as they neared their destination.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Remus replied. "It's just to the left, Arthur," he called out a second later.

"You've erm...you've been here before?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Well, in a manner of speaking," the werewolf answered. "Years ago," he added, but he didn't elaborate.

"This one?" Arthur asked, stopping at one of the houses. It looked the same as all the others, made of dark bricks with an old slate roof and a black door.

"Hmmm," Remus nodded and Arthur knocked on the door.

Harry meanwhile took a deep breath and waited nervously until they saw a shadow move through the frosted glass windows of the door. After what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open to reveal Severus Snape himself. He looked just as he always did, pale, disinterested and perfectly unwelcoming.

What they hadn't known, and had no way of knowing, was that until the second before he'd answered the door, he'd been wearing muggle clothes; specifically, old back jeans and a black jumper. But of course, after sensing that whoever was at the door had magic thanks to his wards, a silent spell had fixed that. No one needed to know that he found muggle clothes perfectly comfortable and acceptable.

"Merry Christmas, Severus," Arthur announced, jovially when the man said nothing and the dark wizard raised an eyebrow at him. "Can we come in...it's a bit wet out here?" he asked.

He seemed to debate the prospect for a minute in his head but then Severus silently turned his back on them, leaving the door open. "I'll take that as a yes," the red head smiled.

Harry shook their drenched umbrellas outside before he left both them and their wet coats by the door. His aunt and uncle had always gotten dangerously angry if he trudged rainwater through the house, after a while it had become a habit and a good thing too he supposed; the last thing he wanted to do was annoy the headmaster his first minute in the house.

They followed Severus through into a small living room with an old wood burning fire, walls lined with books and a dreary looking muggle kitchen through a door to the left. The living room was lit by candlelight and there was a small television set crammed across from the armchair which had stacks of books around it. There were discarded mugs and plates scattered around the chair as well. This was the cosy room of a man who hadn't planned on being disturbed at all.

"What do you want?" the man asked them as he sat down by the fire.

"Can I...erm..." Arthur asked, eyeing one of the chairs. Severus gave him a wordless nod and the red head fell happily into the chair which was far more comfortable than it looked. Remus followed his lead and, nervously, so did Harry. They were glared at, but Severus didn't stop them. "You have a television?" the man exclaimed before he could utter a word of thanks.

Harry looked just as surprised as he did though Remus looked more amused than anything else.

Severus just raised an eyebrow as the red head stared at the muggle device. "It looks like it works but I don't really know how it...Can I use the remoke?" he spoke quickly.

"Yes, of course it works but it helps if it's actually switched on. And the word is 'remote'," the man said.

"Yes...well," Arthur muttered, sheepishly, "Erm...well, erm...anyway, being as it's Christmas and...well...Molly's expecting you for dinner," the man explained.

"...I'm busy," Severus replied, picking up a book from a disorganised pile to his right.

"Oh, come on, it won't be that bad, and you did say you'd be there..."

"I said I might," Severus corrected him.

"Just a few hours," Arthur suggested.

"I...don't celebrate Christmas."

"Maybe now is the perfect time to start."

"No," the headmaster retorted, scribbling something in the book without looking across at them.

"It'd mean a lot to us."

"...Give your wife...my regrets," Severus glared at Arthur. It was clearly a dismissal, but none of them seemed in a hurry to move.

"Well, if you won't come...can we at least wait until the rain goes off a little?" Arthur asked kindly.

"...You could be in for a long wait," the headmaster told them.

"Why's that?" the red head asked, curiously as thunder began to strike outside and shocks of lighting illuminated the room through the old blinds.

"You're a long way from the Burrow," Severus replied once the noise had quietened.

Unlike Albus Dumbledore, Severus detested Christmas time. His predecessor had made it a tradition to remain at the castle to 'celebrate festive cheer' while most other teachers went home. Severus however, chose to hide either in the Hogwarts dungeons, hoping that people forgot about him, or he holed himself away at Spinner's End where certainly no one would ever visit him. Clearly people weren't as afraid of him now as they had been previously.

"Yes," Remus nodded. "We went to Hogwarts first, you know. We were about ready to search the entire castle when Minerva told us you'd be here instead," he said and Severus scowled. "She also said to tell you that your threats have lost their edge," he added, quietly.

The headmaster sank further into his chair, muttering to himself about firing his deputy when he returned to the castle, much to their amusement.

"I shall endeavour to improve then," he grumbled, slowly louder.

"New Years resolution?" Remus inquired and Severus shrugged a little.

"An excellent idea!" Arthur exclaimed, "I always start the new year with one. Last year I said I was going to get a fellytone..."

"A telephone," Harry corrected him, smiling.

"Right, yes," the man nodded, "I actually managed to find one, you know."

"Did you get it to work?" Remus asked.

"...No, it blew up...and from what I understand, it's not meant to do that."

"You blew up a telephone?" the werewolf chuckled.

"Not on purpose...but, yes, I did," the red head answered, sheepishly. "Say, Severus...if we're going to be here for a while...do you mind...letting me try out that remote thing?" he asked, tentatively after a moment.

"Are you planning on blowing it up?" Severus muttered, without looking over at him.

"No, of course not."

"If it ends up like your telephone..."

"It won't. Wizards oath," Arthur said, cheerfully as he all but leapt up to retrieve the remote from a small, cluttered coffee table. "...A remarkable device..." he muttered, turning it over in his hands.

"Do you want me to show you..." Harry began.

"Yes!" the man nodded, sitting back down next to Harry who was half sitting against the arm of the chair he'd vacated and half standing.

"Here, you just need to press..." the young wizard said, pointing to a button on the remote.

When Severus finally managed to get them out of his house and resume his solitary 'celebrations', Minerva arrived on his doorstep bringing whiskey and yet more Christmas cheer. She too stayed for longer than expected but at least after that, he was left alone for the rest of the day.

That was until six o'clock in the evening when there was another knock at his door. He left them out there in the cold, knocking on the door for longer than was really socially acceptable but they were evidently not taking 'no' for an answer. So he answered it. Eventually.

It was an enthusiastic though exasperated Molly and a sheepish looking Arthur who stepped through into his house.

"Severus..." the red haired matriarch began as he closed the door behind them.

"If you are about to wish me the compliments of the season," he sighed, "I assure you...I've already heard enough 'festive cheer' to last me a lifetime."

"Clearly not. You didn't come to dinner," Molly replied, placing her hands on her hips as she surveyed him.

"I assumed that the Aurors have enough to worry about with all of you under one roof without adding another target," he retorted as he lead the way back through, again, to the living room which only had a few lamps and candles as well as the fire to ward off the dark and the cold.

To allow the Weasley's along with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and Merlin only knows who else, to spend Christmas together, the already hard pressed Auror department had been left with little choice but to post watchers around the building along with some serious magical wards. Even though the last of the escaped Death Eaters had been captured, it still seemed a sensible precaution.

Severus had to hold back a smile as he thought of the exasperated expressions on their faces every time someone had left to visit him.

Clearly, Molly wasn't too worried about the Aurors because she didn't look at all put out by what he'd said. "Rubbish," she shrugged. "Anyway, I managed to save you some food," she said, taking out her wand. She conjured a tray which placed itself on the book ladened table and it suddenly piled itself high with food in a precarious balancing act. "And that's no small feat in a house full of hungry wizards," she remarked.

The tray held a huge plate full of meat and vegetables swimming in gravy, several plates of cake and biscuits, numerous glasses of firewhiskey and a magical Christmas cracker for good measure. "I couldn't just let you go hungry," Molly said to him when the food finally stopped appearing.

"I've already eaten," Severus grumbled.

Molly raised a skeptical eyebrow at the small plate which rested at the foot of the chair by the fire. It looked like the remains of a dish of rice but it must have been left there for several hours and it didn't look at all appetising. Obviously Severus didn't think so either because he hadn't eaten much of it and he vanished the plate along with its contents with a silent wave of his wandless hand.

"Then eat again," she replied. "You don't know just what I had to go through to save you all this. Ron would have scoffed the lot the second I turned my back, you mark my words."

"You should have saved yourself the trouble," Severus retorted.

"That boy eats enough as it is," she shook her head.

Of course the implication it left was that Severus himself, unlike Ronald Weasley, didn't eat enough. And it was a fair assumption. Poppy and Minerva still didn't leave him alone about his eating habits and he'd hoped that by retreating to Spinner's End, he'd have a little peace and quiet, but obviously not. Now it was a tirade of tenacious witches he'd have to put up with. It wasn't as though he didn't eat anything at all. But he couldn't help it if he didn't feel the need to stuff his face with food every five minutes could he?

"Now, at least if you won't eat with us, you can eat here alone in the dark and brood if that's what you want to do," Molly said, quite cheerfully.

"I do not 'brood'."

"Of course not, dear," she replied. "Bring the tray back when you're done," she added as they let themselves out.

Arthur shot him another apologetic smile as he was whisked out by his wife. The man hadn't even managed to say one word and Severus had been railroaded into visiting the Burrow again. Either that or he'd probably be invaded again by Weasley's when they came to retrieve the dinner tray.

Slytherins were, by no means, cowards, but their bravery was ruled by their intellect; generally speaking, and Severus' intellect was telling him that he was being really rather stupid.

He was standing a short distance away from the Burrow, easily concealed in the shadows, as he watched the people inside through one of the ground floor windows. The room was well lit and the people inside were laughing. The Aurors outside hadn't seen him and that was a rather troublesome thought. If he could slip by them then what else could?

He took a deep breath as though readying himself for battle and he strode towards the door, glaring at it like it had done him some kind of terrible wrong. He knocked on the door and it was answered in an instant.

"Severus!" Molly exclaimed happily, ushering him into the house. "You came. At last. Oh, I knew you would," she declared, leading him over to the fire and conjuring an armchair for him.

There was barely room for it with the multitude of other chairs, sofas, discarded pillows, blankets, plates and mugs which seemed to litter the floor and take up valuable space as well as the piano, but she seemed determined to make room for him. Evidently, so did everyone else as they shuffled their chairs about the place, squeezing in even closer to each other and Molly nudged the extra chair close to the fire.

Glancing around at the others in the room, most of them looked happy to see him, which wasn't something he was used to. Only Ronald Weasley seemed to squirm in his seat as the headmaster sat down.

"Here you are," Molly handed him a sweet smelling mug and a perfectly wrapped present in green and silver.

"What's this?" he asked, taking the mug but not the present. Instead, he stared at it, warily, like he expected it to attack him at any moment.

"I thought you were supposed to be clever," she sighed, "It's a Christmas present...for you," she added when he began to look a little perplexed.

And perplexed he was. People didn't generally go out of their way to give him presents. Albus always had and so had Minerva. So had Lily when they were children but that was it. Students never did, beyond the odd sycophant who wanted a good grade, and certainly no one else ever did.

"Well, open it," the matriarch prompted him, kindly.

It was a book. An antiquated potions book written by one of the eighteenth centuries' most renowned brewers and notoriously difficult to find. It was probably worth a small fortune and considering the fact that the family before him weren't exactly well off, he had to wonder just where it had come from and why on Earth they were giving it to him.

"It was my grandmothers'," Molly explained, "She wasn't really much of a brewer...but she liked to think she was, bless her. I found it a while ago...I couldn't make head or tail of any of it."

"This is worth a considerable amount of money," he said, appraising the leather bound tome.

"I know, Remus told me," she nodded.

"Perhaps you should keep it," Severus remarked, forcing himself to close the book. He had to admit, the mere thought of reading just one page was very tempting and he considered it an impressive achievement when he held it out for her to take back. He didn't consider it an act of pity by any means, but he knew what it was like to have no money and something so valuable, like this book, would have been a lifeline in his youth.

"It's a present," Molly said, rolling her eyes in frustration like he'd said something rather stupid. "From all of us," she added, "And presents can't be returned. That's a rule, you know."

"Is it, indeed?"

"Yes, it is," she nodded, sitting down.

"I wasn't aware that Christmas had rules," he replied, idly flipping the book open on his lap. The pages were worn, dusty and they had hand written notes scrawled all over them, much like his own books.

"There's lots," Ginny spoke up bravely and he raised an eyebrow at her, looking up from the book.

"Ginny, really..." Molly sighed.

"But there is, mum," the young witch protested. "You can't open presents until after dinner. We have to listen to Celestina Warbeck..." she said and making almost everyone groan, "We have to..."

"Yes, alright, dear," Molly insisted.

"We don't have to listen to that again, do we?" Ron grimaced, tossing his head back.

"I think it might scare poor Severus off," Arthur smiled at his wife, hoping, like his son, that Molly wouldn't play that same music yet again.

"Ah..." his wife frowned but then suddenly, she smiled again. "Well then I'm sure Severus wouldn't mind playing something for us," she said, optimistically.

The Dark wizard in question all but dropped the book and his jaw at the same time and the brief look of shock that crossed his face was more emotion than he was comfortable expressing before he managed to hide it.

"...I don't know any Christmas songs," he grumbled after a moment.

"Oh, it doesn't matter, dear," Molly smiled, kindly. "Just play anything you like. Anything at all," she said, standing up and all but shoving him, albeit gently, across to the piano still with his new book and mug in hand.

He managed to balance the mug on the piano, probably not a good idea, and he left the book by his side on the stool as he sat down. He stared at the keys for a moment and then at the insistent witch standing beside him.

"What exactly..." he began, exasperated.

"Whatever comes to mind," Molly answered, quickly and he sighed.

"I'm not a juke box," he said.

"A what?" she asked, furrowing her brow and he sighed again.

"Never mind," Severus said, turning back to the piano.

"What's a juke box?" Ron asked Hermione, quietly.

"It plays music," she answered, "Its a muggle device."

"Ohhhhh," Ron stressed the word, "Muggle thing, got it."

Rather than protest, Severus decided to simply play something, maybe then Molly would stop hovering over him, it was unnerving. Having said that, he had no idea what to play. He wasn't usually put on the spot like this to play music for an audience, in fact, it had never happened because no one had known that he'd played the piano before, really. Albus had known and asked occasionally when Severus had seemed to be in a particularly good mood. The old man's portrait still did ask him but Severus didn't keep a piano at the castle. Maybe he should.

Without much thought, Severus started playing the last song he'd played for Albus at his house before the war had escalated several years ago; Rainy Days and Mondays by the Carpenters. The old man had quite liked it and had even hummed along to it, albeit badly since he didn't really know the song in the first place. It had been one of those rare occasions that he could remember with a smile even though it was quite a melancholy piece of music. *1

"Rainy days and Mondays?" Remus asked, smiling.

"It's raining," Severus remarked. At some point since he'd arrived at the Burrow, it had started to rain and he could hear it outside as he played.

"So it is," the werewolf said.

"Rainy Days?" Arthur asked him.

"The song, that's what it's called," Remus answered.

"It doesn't sound familiar...but I like it," the red head nodded, decisively. "Course, Severus could probably make even make Celestina's songs sound good on that thing," he muttered and the werewolf chuckled.

"I thought you liked her music," Molly frowned at him.

"Erm...I do, dear, of course I do..." Arthur said, not at all convincingly.

"Mmm-hmmm," she muttered back, sceptically and he coughed lightly as he looked back over at Severus playing the piano.

Once that song was over, he played another and another, and he stayed until about midnight. He only managed to sneak out of he building when both Molly and Arthur were absent from the room and every one else seemed to distracted or tired to notice.

Everyone except Harry for some reason.

"Mrs. Weasley might come after you, professor," Harry said. He'd followed Severus out of the Burrow and closed the door behind him.

"The four and a half glasses of wine she drank says otherwise," he replied, dryly, turning around to face Harry.

While things weren't as tense as they had been several months ago when, once again, Severus had ended their Occlumency lessons, Harry got the feeling that he still wasn't completely in the clear and had it not been for his Gryffindor courage, he wouldn't stayed in the Burrow rather than follow the headmaster outside.

"...Yeah," Harry scoffed, "Good point."

Severus said nothing else and he didn't intend to stay and talk because in his opinion, he'd been sociable enough today to last him a lifetime. So, he gracefully turbaned his back to Harry and walked off. Maybe it was the fine wine he'd drank or the good food he'd eaten, but Severus didn't feel particularly inclined to argue.

"Good night, professor," Harry called after him but Severus didn't answer.

When he returned home, Spinner's End seemed even more quiet and isolated than ever before. Against the Burrow, even though it's occupants were emotional Gryffindors, his own home paled in comparison, though he'd never admit it.

Severus set his new book down on a coffee table by the fire in his living room and once the place was illuminated by the candles, he found another present on his favourite chair, wrapped in Slytherin green paper. Two presents in one day was perhaps a new record for him.

Once he opened it he found a soft, wooden jumper inside. It was a Weasley jumper in Dark green and emblazoned with a silver 'S' on the front.

He wasn't quite sure whether he was grateful or embarrassed.

*1 This is just such a good song on the piano.

Chapter 39: 18th June 1999

18th June 1999

The End of an Era

Harry had just left the Great Hall where students were still enjoying the lavish Leaving Feast before the students were set to return home tomorrow morning. He was using every ounce of Gryffindor courage that he possessed just to keep putting one foot in front of the other as he made his way through the castle.

He was heading for the Headmasters' Office and he wasn't exactly expecting a warm welcome when he got there. Severus had been at the feast but he'd also disappeared after a short space of time and after a while, Harry had decided to follow him. It could be his last chance to see the reclusive wizard again and he had to at least say his goodbyes.

After ascending to the top of the moving spiral staircase, he knocked on the door and was admitted without a word as the door swung open.

"Potter," the headmaster remarked, as always. "Escaping your adoring fans? What will they do without you?" he questioned, sardonically.

After a while, and after many conversations, Harry had learned not to take the headmasters' sarcastic remarks to heart. Oftentimes they were made simply because the man didn't know what else to say and he had to admit, the wizard did have a remarkable sense of humour once you acclimatised to it. Many simply couldn't, like Ron, but then some could, like Harry and Minerva.

"I think they'll manage somehow, sir," he replied, just as seriously.

"How fortunate," Severus scoffed, putting a book back onto its shelf and descending the mezzanine staircase. "I would have thought that the Gryffindor common room would be more interesting to you than my office. I also happen to know that the Weasley boy has smuggled in several barrels of Firewhiskey for the...party."

"...You heard about that?" the younger wizard repressed a smirk.

"Naturally."

"And you didn't confiscate it?"

"...Drunken Gryffindors are even more stupid than sober ones...though admittedly not by much, so I'm expecting an entertaining evening," Severus said. "Do tell your classmates not to disappoint," he added.

"I'll pass on the message," Harry grinned.

"Pomona has a bet with Filius that someone will try and jump into the Lake to say their farewells to the Giant Squid," Albus remarked from his portrait, repressing a smirk. "Personally, I'm rather hoping that doesn't happen," he added.

"Albus, you are a kill joy," Phineas remarked.

"I'm thinking of our dear Severus, here," the old wizard said, "Think of his reputation as headmaster if, on their last night, one of the students was taken by the Squid."

"I dare say the lad would survive," Phineas waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway, let the Squid have its fun. Anyone stupid enough to swim in the Lake deserves whatever they get."

"We are not feeding students to the creature," Dippet objected.

"I'll be feeding it your portraits unless you quiet down," Severus hissed.

"An empty threat," Phineas chuckled. "You can't even take our portraits off these walls let alone throw us in the Lake. We're stuck here just like you are."

"You are not to encourage any Squid diving," Severus ordered Harry.

"No, sir," the younger wizard said, with comical seriousness.

"If it happens, you'll be taking full responsibility," the wizard said.

"...Ermmm..." Harry furrowed his brow.

"A little unfair, that, my boy," Albus muttered to Severus.

"Quiet," Severus scowled back at him.

"The possibility was entertaining while it lasted," Phineas lamented, earning him another dark glare.

"I erm...I wanted to thank you," Harry began a little nervously, "I know I wasn't the...best of students and I'm still not sure I'm doing the right thing but I really don't know what else I could..."

"You chose the Auror Office, I assume," the headmaster replied.

"How'd you know?" the young wizard asked but Severus scoffed quietly. "Right...of course you'd know," Harry smiled.

"Poster boy would have been the easier choice."

"Probably. What about you? Will you stay here?"

"Where else would I go?" Severus shrugged. "In any case, I'm only staying until the repairs are done," he added, quickly.

"...You'd make a good Auror," Harry remarked.

Shocked, Severus stopped shuffling the papers on his desk and stared over at Harry. "I doubt the Aurors have gotten desperate enough, even now, to admit a Death Eater," he replied.

"But..."

"I think someone switched your pumpkin juice for Firewhiskey at the feast, Potter, you're delusional."

"I..."

"Get to your little Gryffindor party," Severus said, "I'd imagine you're the guest of honour."

"...Alright," Harry nodded, giving the man a rueful smile.

"Remember...no Squid diving."

"No, sir," the young wizard chuckled and walked back towards the door.

"...And Potter," Severus called out.

"Sir?" Harry stopped and turned around.

"...Good luck," the man said, meeting Harry's eyes for a split second before lowering them back to the papers on his desk.

"You too," Harry smiled. "Good night, headmaster," he said and made sure to close the door quietly on his way out.

"Be honest with me, Severus," Albus began a minute or so later. "You are going to miss Harry more than you let on, aren't you?" he asked.

"Don't be absurd," Severus snapped.

"Ah, you forget, I know you, my boy. You'll miss..."

"What's to 'miss'?! The boy causes trouble wherever he goes. He consistently flouts the rules and gets away with it. He's reckless and he has yet to learn to think before he acts," the wizard said, barely stopping for breath.

"And yet...he has a remarkable capacity for understanding and forgiveness."

"That's hardly a consolation."

"I think you've both come a remarkable way from his first year. You hated Harry..."

"I still do. What makes you think that's changed?"

"I'm not deaf. I did hear your conversation," Albus remarked, "It was very civil...quite friendly, I'd say."

"Friendly?" Severus sneered, repeating the word with disdain.

"Yes," the old man nodded.

"There's no need to insult me," the wizard grimaced and Albus chuckled.

Chapter 40: 5th February 1999

The Secret's Out

5th February 1999

The Headmaster of Hogwarts was sipping from a glass of fine whiskey, sitting across from a warm fire in a cosy room with people who weren't exactly the worst company in the world. He'd sat same table as the Dark Lord on more than one occasion so he could handle this, surely.

What he couldn't handle was the searing pain emanating from his Dark Mark.

Pain dulling potions were useless. Drinking Dreamless sleep every night didn't work much because he was so used to it he had a high tolerance to it now and even the whiskey didn't seem to be helping as much as he'd hoped. It would be easy to drink himself into a stupor but then he'd be hungover and in pain.

"Severus, have you heard anything I've just said?" Minerva asked and he glanced across at her. "I'll take that as a no," she sighed when he said nothing. "Do tell us if we're boring you," she said a little sarcastically.

"If I did, would you leave?" he retorted, his words sharp as he all but gritted his teeth against the pain.

"...Are you alright?" his deputy asked, concerned when she heard his tone of voice.

"Fine," Severus said, gripping his tumbler with pale fingers.

"You look pale," Remus remarked.

"As opposed to usual," Tonks muttered.

"Perhaps you should get some sleep," Minerva suggested, kindly but Severus let out a barely audible snort. As if he could sleep in this much pain without knocking himself out. "Trouble sleeping?" she asked.

He hadn't left his rooms much in the last week or so and he'd barely slept at all. He'd just hoped that people wouldn't notice. He was always irritable and never really slept much anyway but these people seemed determined to take note of even his micro-expressions now. No one really bothered before, aside from Albus.

"Now that I think about it, you have been a bit more..." Remus trailed off, thinking of the right word.

"Grouchy," his wife suggested and though Remus pursed his lip a little, he didn't correct her.

"Than usual," Remus finished, "I didn't like to ask but..."

"Then don't," Severus snapped, placing his now empty glass tumbler onto a table beside his chair and standing up. Maybe trying to sleep, in vain, in his very comfortable bed, would be better than their inquisition.

However, someone, somewhere was clearly laughing at him and rather than make a dignified exit to his bedroom, his vision started to blur. Not at all convenient when standing up. Before he could stop himself, he'd gripped the armrest on the chair he'd just vacated, leaning over it a little but more than enough for them to notice.

"Too much of the good stuff, headmaster?" Tonks asked, concerned.

"He barely had the one glass," the deputy headmistress said when before she all but leapt out of her own arm chair to gently place a hand on the uneasy wizards' shaking shoulder. "You're shaking," she stated.

"It's nothing," Severus retorted, wincing. He shrugged off her hand but she was just as stubborn as he was and it quickly returned to his shoulder.

"It's clearly not nothing!" she insisted, "What's wrong?"

"Stop fussing," he ordered but she glared at him, unaffected.

"Severus..." she began just a second before he gritted his teeth against the pain.

He clutched at his aching arm without even realising it as everything started to blur away as the agony intensified.

Recognising the action, Minerva scowled and gently, albeit angrily, pulled his left arm towards her and began to prise away the layers of clothes and buttons. Severus' eyes widened as he tried to release his arm from her grasp, but it had little effect. She was as tenacious as ever and she quickly succeeded in freeing his forearm to reveal the incredibly vivid Dark Mark which was coiling and pulsing on his skin.

"I thought you said it was fading! You stupid boy," Minerva hissed at him.

"Damn," Tonks muttered in shock when she saw the Mark. "How..." she trailed off when Remus put his hand on her arm, silently.

She'd had little to do with Severus over the years. She'd known him when she was a student at the school and when she joined the Order but unlike Remus and Minerva, she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to speak to the reticent man. But she had seen the Mark burn on several occasions and she knew, just like they did, that there was nothing they could do except wait until the pain stopped.

"Get Poppy," Minerva told them.

"No!" Severus exclaimed, finally yanking his arm free from her blessedly cool hands which had felt wonderful on his burning skin.

"But..."

"No," he repeated, "She can't...do anything about it."

"But the Mark shouldn't be..."

"But it is...and you know you can't stop it," he ground out.

Minerva sighed, knowing he was right, so all she could do was help him to sit down, even though he did seem as reluctant as ever to accept help.

They didn't know quite what to expect now. Usually, after the Mark burned, Severus would have to return to Voldemort before it would stop but there was no Voldemort to return to anymore. So would it stop at all?

Severus closed his eyes and after a few minutes of sitting in tense silence, he opened them again to find them staring at him with concern etched onto their faces.

"Well?" Minerva promoted him, impatiently.

"Well, what?" he retorted, just as irritably, his voice horse.

"Well, I mean, explain yourself. You told us that the Mark was fading!"

"...I lied," Severus stated, needlessly.

"Clearly," she sighed, shaking her head. She took a moment to pace in front of the fire, angrily huffing to herself while Severus remained stoic where he sat. "Did it fade even a little or has it been this way since...it all...happened?" she asked.

"It...didn't fade," he answered. "But it was a few months before it started to hurt," he added.

"And you didn't think to mention it?"

"There's nothing you, or anyone else could have done...then or now," Severus said.

"Why's that?" Remus asked.

"Because you're not the Dark Lord," the headmaster said in a tone of finality which clearly indicated that he didn't mean to elaborate.

"For goodness sake, Severus!" Minerva exclaimed, turning swiftly and staring right at him, "When I said 'explain' I meant..."

"There's no point in explaining it. You can't..."

"You explain yourself or I swear, I'll hex you into next month!" He raised a challenging eyebrow at her and she retorted by pulling her wand out from her robes and pointing it at him. "I'll do it, Severus," she said.

"I believe you," he replied, "But it doesn't change the fact that..."

"Look," Minerva began, lowering her wand. "I realise it's not easy for you to trust anyone, but please try and understand...we're not here to annoy you. We're here because we care about you but by Merlin you don't make it easy sometimes."

"And...threatening me at wandpoint counts as 'caring' does it?" he asked, dryly.

"Yes, of course it does," she nodded.

"Well, then you should have told me that sooner. We could have saved quite a lot of time," Severus told her.

Minerva threw up her hands and sighed. She then put away her wand and sat in a chair beside him. "Severus...please...what's wrong?" she all but begged.

Faced with such sincerity, which he still didn't understand, Severus wasn't quite sure what to do. It was difficult to get used to people so openly telling him that they cared since he'd gone out of his way to make himself hated for years. Every instinct he had was telling him to just storm out of the room hurling insults as he went just to make sure that they didn't follow him. But he didn't. He told them the truth.

He wasn't quite sure what made him do it either but after Minerva was done with him, the tenacious witch had some choice words for Albus' portrait as well. In the old man's defence, he was now sworn to obey the current headmaster, including keeping secrets if ordered, but that didn't seem to deter her at all.