Phoenix Reborn 5

Dylan was practicing with the Slytherin Quidditch team late one afternoon. After the regular team practice was over, Draco asked Dylan to stay behind and work on some flying maneuvers with him. And since Draco's "requests" were usually thinly veiled orders, Dylan obliged, not seeing any harm in this particular request; besides, Dylan enjoyed flying. But as the sun began to set, Dylan finally asked, "It's getting late, Draco. Shouldn't we go in before we miss dinner?"

"Sure, Rosier," Draco said, agreeably enough. They flew down and landed on the field. As they got off their broomsticks, a black-robed figure emerged from the stands.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Dylan exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He was uncomfortably aware that there was no one within sight or earshot besides himself and the Malfoys.

Lucius Malfoy smiled in a slow, satisfied fashion that was not at all reassuring. "There is someone who wants to meet you, Dylan," he said in a silky voice.

Dylan remembered his mother's orders to attend no secret meetings without her permission. "Um...I can't leave the school grounds or I'll get in trouble," he said nervously. "Professor Snape--"

"Severus and I are old friends," Lucius said, still smiling. "You need not worry about getting detention."

"M-my mother says--" Dylan stammered.

"Oh, you needn't worry about your mother, child. She has given her permission for this meeting." When Dylan looked at him skeptically, Lucius added, "She sends this as a token." He handed Dylan a small, shiny object.

Dylan stared down at the silver ring in his palm. The band was carved with a thorny vine design, and it was set with a red stone cut to resemble a rose; it was the companion to the ring he wore on his own hand--his mother's engagement ring. His hand closed in a fist around the ring and he shouted, "Where is my mother? What have you done with her?!"

"Take it easy, boy," Lucius said in a cool voice. "I have done nothing with her; why would I harm my old friend?"

"My mother never takes that ring off!"

"Yes, because your father gave it to her," Lucius agreed calmly. "That is why she sent it with me, so you would know it was from her. She wishes me to bring you to our meeting."

Dylan stared at Draco's father. He had no idea whether the man was telling him the truth or not, but he had no choice; he would have to go with Lucius. Either his mother really did want him to come, or she was being held against her will, and either way, he must go to her. Dylan carefully pocketed his mother's ring, took a deep breath, and said, "Very well. I will go with you."

"Father, can't I come, too?" Draco asked eagerly.

"No," Lucius said curtly.

"Why does Dylan get to go and not me?" Draco whined. "I'm a year older--"

"I said no, Draco!" Lucius snapped, and his son subsided, looking fearful and sullen at the same time. Lucius's stern expression softened just a little. "Never fear, my son; your time will come soon enough. But one thing you must learn is to follow the orders of our Master and to never question them."

"Yes, Father," Draco murmured obediently, while Dylan went cold with fear. The reference to "our Master" meant that Lucius was taking him to Voldemort! He stared at Draco with terrified, pleading eyes; silently begging him for help, hoping against hope that there was a shred of true friendship between them and not just simple expediency. But Draco just gave him a jealous, slightly puzzled look, as if he could not understand why Dylan was not overjoyed with the great honor that had just been bestowed upon him.

"Return to the castle, Draco," Lucius ordered. "I'll talk to you later."

"Yes, Father," Draco said, walking away with one last envious look, and Dylan knew that no help would be forthcoming from his "friend".

Dylan followed Lucius Malfoy off the school grounds; Malfoy stopped, pulled the hood of his black robe up, and put a mask on over his face. He said, "Come here, boy," putting his arm around Dylan in what seemed like a parody of an embrace. "You need to be close in order to Apparate with me; we wouldn't want to leave any bits of you behind by accident, now would we...?"

They reemerged in a dark, windowless room. A group of robed and masked figures formed a semicircle around a stone altar in the middle of the room. A woman dressed in a white gown lay upon it, her silver-blonde hair spilling over the sides of the stone slab.

"Mother!" screamed Dylan, and would have ran forward if Lucius had not held him back. As he struggled in Malfoy's grip, a tall figure in black robes stepped forward and the assembled Death Eaters bowed to him. This figure was not wearing a mask, and as he turned his crimson eyes upon Dylan, the boy stopped struggling and froze in place.

"Welcome, Dylan Rosier," said Lord Voldemort.

After a long moment, Dylan managed to work up enough courage to ask, "W-why have you done this? My father was your loyal servant; is this how you repay him?"

"Let him go, Lucius," Voldemort said. Malfoy let go of Dylan and took a step back. The Dark Lord raised his wand and shouted, "Crucio!" Dylan fell to the ground, screaming in pain. After a couple of minutes, Voldemort lowered his wand and the pain ceased. As Dylan struggled back to his feet, the Dark Lord said coldly, "Your first lesson as a Death Eater is never to question me, Dylan. I will not be so lenient with you the next time."

Lucius leaned over and hissed into his ear, "Say 'Yes, Master'."

"Y-yes, Master," Dylan stammered.

"You learn quickly; that is good," Voldemort said. "That pleases me, so I will answer your question, impertinent though it was. Yes, your father was loyal, and I was eager to reward his son. But alas, your mother was reluctant to let you take your rightful place. I have never been quite certain of our dear Ariane's loyalty, since she never took the Mark. But Lucius tells me that he thinks she was merely being overprotective, so perhaps we should give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, mothers often fail to see how quickly their children are growing."

"Y-yes, my Lord," Dylan said hastily. "I'm sure that's what it was. I know she did not mean to defy you."

"Then step forward, Dylan, and prove your loyalty by accepting the Dark Mark."

Dylan looked frantically around at the Death Eaters, trying to see if Professor Snape was among them, but it was almost impossible to discern the faces behind the masks. That one was too short, that other too fat, the one standing next to the fat one was a woman...

Voldemort laughed, a harsh, chilling sound. "Professor Snape is not here, Dylan," he said, seeming to read the boy's thoughts. "You may expect no help from that quarter. Severus was being a little overprotective of you as well; he seemed to think you were too young to take the Mark, and I did not want to...distress him. But you are not too young, are you, Dylan?"

What little hope Dylan had left drained out of him. "No, Master," he whispered.

"Then step forward." Voldemort frowned. "Why so reluctant? I thought you would be eager to join your father's old companions and take his place."

There was a dangerous edge to Voldemort's voice. Dylan thought quickly, knowing he could rely on no one but himself now. "I AM eager, my Lord. If I seem reluctant, it is only because I am aware of the great responsibility being entrusted to me; I am young and inexperienced, and I do not wish to fail you, my Lord."

Voldemort laughed again. "A smooth-talker like your father! Do not worry, Dylan--I am sure you will not fail me." His words sounded more like a threat than a reassurance.

Dylan knew he could stall no longer. He stepped forward, pulling up the left sleeve of his robe. Voldemort grasped his wrist with his long, spider-like fingers, and Dylan tried not to shudder. The Dark Lord touched his wand to Dylan's forearm, and Dylan screamed as he felt an intense, burning pain in his arm. Then it was over, and Voldemort released him. Dylan looked down at his arm with trepidation, half-expected to see that his flesh had been seared away. Arm and skin were still intact, but there was now a black skull-and-snake tattoo on his forearm: the Dark Mark, the symbol of the Death Eaters. Once he had longed to wear that Mark, but now he was repulsed by it. He staggered towards the altar, whispering, "Mother," and this time no one stopped him. Dylan saw to his relief that she was still breathing, but she did not answer when he called to her.

"She is alive," Voldemort said, "and will remain so, as long as you serve me loyally. Since you have willingly taken the Mark, I will let her be for now. My servants will return her to your family estate; it will seem as if she has collapsed from a fever, and she will remember nothing of this night. But be sure YOU do not forget, Dylan," Voldemort added with a note of warning in his voice. He lifted his wand, and Dylan flinched involuntarily. "Ah, good, I see you remember the pain of the Cruciatus Curse. But the next time I need to punish you, it will be your mother who suffers, not you."

"There will be no next time, Master!" Dylan promised fervently, dropping to his knees.

"Good," Voldemort said, sounding satisfied. "Lucius, take him back to school; we wouldn't want him to miss any classes."

Dylan kissed his mother on the cheek and slipped her ring back on her finger, then left with Malfoy.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Malfoy returned Dylan to the school grounds, and somehow he managed to sneak back into the castle unseen. He rubbed his still-aching arm, feeling like he wanted to throw up. {This wasn't how it was supposed to be!} he wailed silently to himself. His induction into the Death Eaters was supposed to have been his moment of glory; the Death Eaters were supposed to be his comrades-in-arms and second family--how could they have done this, how could they have kidnapped and threatened his mother, coercing his loyalty instead of asking for it? Because, despite the doubts and reservations he'd had, if they had simply come to him and told him that they needed him, and reminded him of his duty to his late father's memory, he might still have joined them of his own free will. But too late, he realized the meaning behind Professor Snape's veiled warnings; too late, he realized the Death Eaters and Voldemort were not what he had thought they were.

He stumbled down the stairs leading to the dungeon, but instead of heading towards the Slytherin dorm, he found himself standing in front of Snape's personal quarters. "Professor Snape!" he shouted, pounding on the door. "Professor Snape!"

The door opened, and Snape appeared behind it, looking startled and worried. "Rosier? What's wrong?"

In answer, Dylan pulled up his sleeve, revealing the Mark on his arm.

"Oh, Dylan," Snape said in a despairing voice, "what have you done?"

Dylan burst into tears and flung himself against his teacher. To his surprise, Snape did not push him away, but put an arm around him as he said, "Come inside before anyone sees you here."


Snape quickly pulled the boy inside and shut the door; he could not afford to have anyone see Dylan come to him like this, particularly not his Slytherin students. The boy was sobbing hysterically against his chest, and Snape awkwardly put his arms around Dylan, patting him on the back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. The boy wept for a long time, but gradually his sobs grew quieter, and the trembling in his body began to cease. But instead of letting the the boy go, Snape held him more tightly, as an emotion filled him that was so unfamiliar it took him a minute or two to recognize what it was: tenderness, which he had never before felt for anyone but Lupin. Though it was of course not quite the same thing he felt for Lupin: nothing sexual, more a sense of protectiveness... {Is this the way Lupin feels about Potter?} Snape wondered. {Is this the way a parent feels about a child?} It was a confusing and rather frightening feeling: tenderness, anger, and helplessness all jumbled up together--anger towards anyone who might want to hurt Dylan, and helplessness, because he realized that his efforts to protect the boy had failed.

Dylan finally stopped crying, and Snape released him. The boy reluctantly pulled away, wiping at his face with his sleeve. Snape sent him to the bathroom to wash his face, and in the meantime prepared the same tea-and-brandy mixture that had helped to calm a distraught Draco Malfoy last year. However, Dylan's problems were not likely to be solved with a little chat and a cup of tea...

Dylan emerged, face freshly scrubbed but eyes still red, looking pale and chastened. He motioned for Dylan to take a seat in an armchair beside the fireplace and handed him the cup of tea. Snape sat in the chair across from him, and took a sip from his own cup, which also had brandy mixed into it--because Snape suspected he was going to need a stiff drink once he heard Dylan's story. He waited until Dylan had finished his tea-and-brandy, and some color had been restored to the boy's face before he asked softly, "Why did you not heed my warnings, Dylan?"

Dylan began to tremble again. "It wasn't--I didn't--" he stammered, then took a deep breath and said, "I had no choice. They had my mother."

"What?!"

Dylan explained everything that had happened, how Lucius Malfoy had shown up with Ariane's ring and taken him to the Death Eaters' gathering, how Voldemort had purposely refrained from summoning Snape, how the Dark Lord had threatened him into joining the Death Eaters and taking the Mark.

Snape silently cursed. This was very, very bad. He should have kept a closer eye on Dylan. What's more, it was clear that Voldemort did not trust him. Did he suspect Snape was a double agent? It would be very difficult--not to mention dangerous--to help Dylan without further arousing the Dark Lord's suspicions. He would have to talk to Dumbledore about this, but since the Headmaster was in hiding, he would be able to give only a limited amount of help. He could send Dylan away to protect him, either to Grimmauld Place or back to his family's estate; Snape was fairly certain that Mathias Donner would be able to protect his great-nephew if he knew the truth. But then Voldemort would know that Dylan had revealed his secret to someone, and would probably be able to guess who that someone was.

"What should I do, Professor?" Dylan asked in a small and frightened voice.

"I don't know, Rosier," Snape replied wearily, and the boy looked even more scared. "Do nothing for now," Snape said. "You must be very, very careful, or you will get us both killed." Dylan's face went white, but he nodded. "Say nothing about the meeting you attended, not even to Draco; that will be in character--a Death Eater never talks about such things with the non-initiated. Draco knows that; he will sulk, but he won't object. But you must not let Draco or the Death Eaters know how upset you are: your loyalty is already suspect, or the Dark Lord would not have coerced you the way he did. After the way you were treated, they will not expect you to be ecstatic about it, but you must appear to be determined to prove your loyalty. Perhaps, after a suitable interval of time, you can seem to be proud to be carrying on in your father's footsteps. You must appear to be cold, arrogant, and confident, and never show weakness or uncertainty to anyone--especially not your housemates." Snape hesitated. "And it would probably be wise for you to sever your relationship with Miss Granger."

"You know about that?" Dylan asked in surprise.

Snape smiled, just a little. "Yes. I have my sources, Rosier, which I cannot reveal, but I do not think any of the Slytherins are aware of it, and I would like to keep it that way. No Death Eater can befriend a Gryffindor; to do so would put both yourself and Miss Granger in jeopardy."

Dylan felt his heart sink. He had known he would probably have to give up Hermione one day, but he had not expected it to hurt so much. "Yes, Professor," he whispered sadly. "What about my family? Should I say anything to them?"

"No!" Snape said emphatically. "At least, not yet. We cannot risk alerting the Death Eaters to the fact that you are, shall we say, less than enthusiastic about your new status. There are ways I might be able to help you, but it will take time. Try to behave normally for now, as if nothing has happened. I know that will be difficult--"

"Don't worry, Professor," Dylan said bitterly. "I've been playing a role my entire life. I can keep up the act a bit longer."

The bitterness, and the need to hide behind a mask, were very familiar to Snape. {Please, please, don't let the boy turn out like me,} he silently pleaded, though he was not sure who he was talking to. Aloud, he said, "Try to avoid going anywhere alone, especially with Draco Malfoy."

"I will, Professor, but--"

"I will assign you a special project," Snape interrupted, "assisting me with a potion. That will take up most of your free time and give you an excuse to avoid Malfoy."

"Yes, sir. But what if--" Dylan's voice faltered. "What if the Dark Lord summons me?"

"You know how the Dark Lord summons his Death Eaters, don't you? You saw it happen that night in my office..." Dylan nodded. "You will know when it happens; the Mark will turn black and burn. We are supposed to Apparate immediately to our Master's side when that happens, but they cannot expect that of you, since you are too young to Apparate." Snape frowned, saying, "Come to think of it, that is probably why your father, Lyall Wilkes, and I were not inducted until we were over eighteen." He wondered why Voldemort was recruiting Dylan so young; was he really that desperate for "new blood," as Lucius had hinted? "In any case, if you feel the Mark burn, come to me at once. If you are summoned, I will probably be expected to Apparate us both to the meeting place."

Dylan shuddered, but nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

"If we are lucky, that will not happen. Since you are so young, and unable to Apparate, any instructions the Dark Lord wishes to give you may be passed along in a more conventional manner." At least, Snape hoped so. "In the meantime, I will attempt to ascertain what the Dark Lord expects from you, and I will try to deflect his attention away from you, but to be honest, Rosier, I don't know how much I can do..."

"I understand," Dylan whispered. "They don't really trust you, either, do they? Or you would have been summoned to the meeting along with the others."

The boy was very perceptive, which was dangerous. He was too young to guard his mind against Voldemort, and if the Dark Lord realized Snape was helping him this way, he could lose not only his cover, but his life. But he had failed to save Dylan's father and Evan's friend Wilkes; he would not fail Dylan as well.

{Is it worth risking so much just for one boy?} Snape's inner voice quietly asked. {Whether you are killed or your cover is just exposed, countless innocents could die if the Order no longer has access to the information you've been feeding them about the Dark Lord's plans.}

{After all I have risked for the Order,} Snape replied fiercely, {I am entitled to one selfish request. I will not let the boy be sacrificed, not even to save those "countless innocents". I will save him, no matter what!}

"Professor?" Dylan asked quietly. "Why are you helping me? What...what turned you against the Death Eaters?"

They were treading on dangerous territory again. "Let us simply say that I am trying to atone for mistakes I made in the past," Snape said grimly. "I had hoped to prevent you from making the same foolish choices I did, but..."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Dylan said, bowing his head.

"You had no other choice," Snape said. "At least you did it only to save your mother; I joined the Death Eaters of my own free will, so I have no such excuse."

"I might have done it anyway," Dylan admitted. "If they had asked me instead of forced me. I didn't know what they were really like. Mother said that my father regarded the Death Eaters as a second family. Families aren't supposed to do such things to each other." Dylan laughed bitterly. "Then again, look at my own family--my grandmother disowned my mother, and my uncles raped their uncle's apprentice! So perhaps the Death Eaters really are a family...but I had hoped they would be a more loving one!"

"The Dark Lord believes love is a weakness," Snape said quietly. "You can expect no mercy, no affection, from your new 'family'."

"I know that now," Dylan sighed. "I should have paid more attention to what you told me, I should have been more careful..."

"It is too late for what-ifs," Snape said. "But I will protect you as best I can."

"Thank you, Professor," Dylan whispered.

"In order to do that," Snape continued, "you must allow me access to your mind." Dylan looked up, startled, as Snape reached into his robe and pulled out his wand. "I must put blocks around the memories of this conversation and the others we have had, so that the Dark Lord does not see them and realize that we are working against him."

"The Dark Lord can read minds?" Dylan asked fearfully.

Snape sighed; he had already had this conversation with Potter, and he didn't feel like going through it again. "It's not that simple, Rosier, but I don't have time to explain it right now. Suffice it to say that the Dark Lord is able to delve into another person's mind and gain access to that person's feelings and memories. We need to prevent him from gaining access to yours." Perhaps Snape ought to be teaching Occlumency to Rosier along with Potter; he would have to speak to the Headmaster about it. Then he inwardly flinched, feeling a twinge of guilt as he remembered how he had discontinued Potter's lessons after catching him spying in the Pensieve. He knew the Headmaster would not be pleased to hear that...

Dylan interrupted his thoughts, asking nervously, "Are you going to use a Memory Charm, sir? Will I forget what we've discussed?"

"No, that would be pointless since I need you to remember my instructions. I will merely be putting a wall of sorts around your thoughts, so that the Dark Lord will not be able to see them, but you will still have access to them."

"All right, sir." Dylan still looked confused, but seemed willing to take Snape at his word. "What do I have to do?"

"Just try to relax, and not to fight me. It will be disconcerting to have someone else enter your mind, but I won't hurt you, and I'll do this as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir."

Snape lifted his wand and cast the spell. He found himself inside Dylan's mind, images flashing before him: Ariane, young and beautiful, singing a lullaby; Gwydion Donner sneering and berating a young Dylan; Hermione Granger at the Yule Ball, looking surprisingly lovely, at least from the perspective of Dylan's gaze. Then more recent memories, still sharp with fear: Lucius Malfoy holding Ariane's ring; Voldemort's red eyes; the excruciating pain of the Mark being branded into Dylan's arm... He felt the boy begin to panic and resist Snape's exploration of his mind. Snape tried to send out soothing thoughts, and he felt Dylan make a conscious effort to let down his defenses. Snape was a little surprised at the control the boy showed; he would be a natural at Occlumency...but now was not the time to be thinking about that. He quickly found the memories he was looking for and blocked them off, effectively hiding them from anyone who might be searching Dylan's mind. Then he exited the boy's mind and ended the spell.

Dylan blinked, looking pale and a little shaken. "Is...that it? Are you finished?"

"Yes," Snape said, then added approvingly, "you did very well," and Dylan managed a small but sincere smile. "You should go back to your dorm now, before anyone gets suspicious."

"Yes sir." He rose from his chair and said in a quiet but heartfelt voice, "Thank you, Professor. Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Snape said, and watched the boy leave, still feeling strange. He was not quite sure how to deal with these new emotions; it had been bad enough having one hostage to fortune--Lupin--and now he had two to worry about. He wasn't entirely sure that Voldemort was wrong about love being a weakness...
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Snape sat in his chair staring at the fire for a long time after Dylan left, but he finally got to his feet and headed for his bedroom. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he needed to contact the Order and pass along this new information. He touched the bottom drawer of his desk, reciting a brief charm to unlock the warding spell that prevented anyone but him from opening it, then pulled open the drawer and took out a small, round mirror that was hidden under a pile of papers and wrapped in a piece of cloth. As he unwrapped the cloth, he was surprised to find that a small light was flashing from inside the glass, which meant that someone from the Order had been trying to contact him. The light was blue (they were each assigned different colors), which meant that person was Lupin. Snape looked into the mirror and called, "Lupin? Lupin, are you there?"

Lupin's face appeared in the mirror, looking anxious. "Severus! I've been trying to contact you!"

"Well, I've been a bit busy, Lupin," Snape said waspishly. "I just had a visit from Dylan Rosier..." He quickly told Lupin what had happened.

"Oh no!" Lupin said, looking dismayed. "That poor boy! I'll pass that information on to Albus; will Dylan be safe at Hogwarts in the meantime?"

"I think so," Snape replied. "If they had wanted to kill him, he'd already be dead. They must think he can be of some use to them, which means they'll keep him alive. For now, anyway..."

"All right," Lupin said, still looking worried. "But please be careful, for your sake as well as Dylan's. I don't like the fact that Voldemort--" Snape flinched a little as Lupin spoke the Dark Lord's name out loud. "--didn't summon you to the meeting. I'm worried that he may suspect something."

"He may just think I'm too soft on Dylan," Snape suggested, but Lupin didn't look convinced, probably because Snape wasn't either. Snape shrugged and said, "Well, what applies to Dylan applies to me as well: as long as I'm still useful to him, the Dark Lord won't kill me. And he wants me to brew more of that Mind Restoration Potion; I still don't know why. The Azkaban escapees seem sane enough, at least by Death Eater standards... By the way, what did you want, Lupin?"

Lupin gave him a hard stare. "Don't you have something else you want to tell me, Severus?"

Snape felt a sinking feeling in his stomach; he suspected he knew what Lupin was talking about, but he said in a cold voice, "I don't have time to play guessing games, Lupin. If you have something to say, just say it."

"Very well," Lupin said, looking a little disappointed in him, and Snape felt a sharp stab of resentment. "I know you stopped Harry's Occlumency lessons."

Snape's face went red, with both anger and embarrassment. "I should have known that brat would break his promise! I told him not to say anything--"

"It's not a promise he should have kept," Lupin interrupted. "You know how important these lessons are!"

"Did he tell you what he did?!" Snape shouted.

"I know he looked into the Pensieve," Lupin said quietly. "But--"

"He saw us in the Shrieking Shack!" Snape screamed. "Who knows what else he saw?!"

"He saw the incident in the Shrieking Shack," Lupin said, still in that quiet voice, "and that time by the lake, right after final exams at the end of our third year. Nothing else."

"That's all?" Snape asked.

"That's all," Lupin replied. "He still doesn't know that we are, or were, lovers, Severus."

Snape breathed a brief sigh of relief, then scowled. "Well, that's still bad enough! He saw me humiliated by his dear father and godfather--did he have a good laugh about it?"

"No, Severus. Harry isn't that kind of person; he was horrified by what he saw. That was why he contacted us, because he was so disturbed by how he saw his father behaving--"

Snape laughed, harshly and mirthlessly. "So he finally saw that his precious father wasn't such a saint after all!"

Lupin sighed. "Yes, he saw that James was not perfect."

"But I suppose you and Black made excuses for him," Snape sneered. "You always did; everyone always overlooked James Potter's faults, the noble Gryffindor hero--"

"That's not fair, Severus," Lupin protested.

"Don't tell me what's fair, Lupin!" Snape said furiously. "Was it fair that your three friends ganged up on me because they were too cowardly to face me alone? Was it fair that they stripped me and humiliated me in front of half the school? Was it fair that you stood by and did nothing while it happened?!"

"Oh, Severus," Lupin said helplessly, his eyes filling with tears, but Snape was not moved.

"You have no idea, Lupin!" Snape ranted. "You have no idea what it's like, to feel so violated, to know that Potter's son has seen the way his father humiliated me, to know that he's seen my most private and painful memories!"

"I know what it's like to be helpless, Severus, because I am reminded every month that I lose control of my body to the full moon," Lupin said quietly. "And I know what it's like to be humiliated."

Snape flushed with guilt; he was the one who had humiliated Lupin, exposing the secret of his lycanthropy to the entire school, and the students and parents had quickly passed on the gossip till it had spread through most of the wizarding world. But Lupin rarely reminded him of it, and Snape said accusingly, "So you're taking Potter's side?"

"No, Severus," Lupin said patiently. "I know what Harry did was wrong. So punish him--give him a month's detention, a year's detention, take a hundred points from Gryffindor--but you must not stop the Occlumency lessons."

"Do you think detention or points will make up for what Potter did to me?!" Snape screamed.

A little annoyance was starting to creep into the sympathetic expression on Lupin's face. "No, Severus, I do not, but the lessons are more important than your pride."

"I won't teach that brat after what he did to me!" Snape roared, letting Lupin see only his rage, unable to tell his lover that the real reason he didn't want to teach Potter was that he couldn't bring himself to look the boy in the eye even during Potions class. He was too ashamed and humiliated to face Potter, knowing the boy had seen him rendered weak and helpless in the Pensieve memories. It also awoke in him the old feelings of loneliness and jealousy, and of course the old hatred for Potter's father, which had been transferred to the son...

"Severus!" Lupin shouted. "You can't stop the lessons! Hate Harry if you want, but you cannot stop the lessons! You of all people know how important it is for Harry to be able to block Voldemort out of his mind! My life, your life, the lives of all the Order members could be jeopardized if Voldemort gains control of Harry! Not to mention all the people who will die if we are unable to defeat Voldemort--"

"STOP SAYING HIS NAME!" screeched Snape. Lupin stared at him in shock, and Snape blushed with shame, because he had never told Lupin that he was afraid to speak the Dark Lord's name aloud, although Lupin had probably noticed by now that he never referred to Voldemort by name.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Lupin said gently. "I don't want to argue with you, but I must insist that you begin teaching Harry again, or I will have to tell Dumbledore about this."

Snape stared at Lupin with something that was very close to hatred. "All right," he said, spitting the words out of his mouth. "But I'm not going to go to the boy and beg him to come back. Tell him to come to my office, and tell him I expect an apology--and it had better be a good one--before I start teaching him again."

"Branwen has already given him a lecture and told him to apologize to you," Lupin said. "And I told him to go to you as soon as possible and tell you that you must not stop the lessons. So he will probably come to you tomorrow."

"Very well," Snape said curtly. "When you contact Dumbledore, tell him I'm going to start teaching Dylan Occlumency as well--at different times, of course; I won't tell him that I'm teaching Potter." Snape had changed his mind about asking Dumbledore's permission first; if they were going to force him to teach Potter, then by Merlin, he was entitled to teach a student of his choosing, one more talented, motivated, and deserving than Mr. Potter...

Lupin looked startled. "But--"

"What applies to Potter, applies to Dylan as well, Lupin," Snape snapped. "He has to be able to block the Dark Lord out of his mind, or his Master will soon see that Dylan is not a sincere convert, and that I have been trying to save him from the Death Eaters. I placed a few blocks around his memories, but I cannot continue to do that indefinitely. It is very difficult to single out a specific memory, and it will only grow harder as the memories continue to accumulate. He must be able to fend off the Dark Lord on his own eventually. Of course," Snape said in a bitter voice, "Dylan is unimportant, so perhaps no one but me cares whether he is saved or not. After all, he is merely the son of a deceased Death Eater, not the savior of the wizarding world like Mr. Harry Potter--"

"You know that's not true, Severus!" Lupin said angrily. "Dumbledore fought for Dylan to be admitted to Hogwarts, Flitwick has defended him as well, and I care what happens to Dylan even though I have never met him! I care because I don't want to see any child put in danger, but I care especially because he is important to you, Severus!"

Snape flushed, more than a little discomposed--how could Lupin have known that Snape cared about Dylan before Snape had realized it himself? "All right," he mumbled. "Then you understand why it's important for me to teach him."

"Yes, I do, but I still think you should consult with Albus first--"

"I don't have time to wait for Dumbledore's reply, and quite frankly, Lupin, I don't much care what you think." Snape felt mingled guilt and satisfaction at Lupin's hurt and startled look. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a great deal of work to do--"

"Severus, wait!" Lupin cried. "Please--I know you're angry, but I don't want this to come between us--"

Lupin looked frightened; a spiteful part of Snape was glad, but another part of him felt ashamed of that reaction.

"Please, Severus," Lupin said softly. "I don't want to lose you over this..." He stared at Snape with pleading, tearful eyes.

Snape remembered that look--he had seen it after the Shrieking Shack, when Lupin had tried to tell him that he had not known what Black was going to do. He felt uneasy; he didn't want to lose Lupin either, but he was not ready to forgive him yet. Snape stared at Lupin's image in the mirror for a long time, then finally said, "You won't lose me. But right now, Lupin, I really don't feel like looking at your face."

"Severus--" Lupin said, the tears spilling out of his eyes, and Snape broke off contact. The mirror went blank, and he sat there staring at his own reflection, hating Lupin though he still loved him, and hating himself even more.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Snape braced himself to face Potter, but the boy did not come to his office, and he secretly felt relieved. In Potions class, he and Potter ignored each other as much as was humanly possible. {It's not my fault,} Snape told himself. {I told Lupin I wouldn't teach the boy unless he came and apologized to me first.} But deep inside, he felt guilty, because he knew he should be continuing the lessons, or at the very least he should inform Lupin that Potter had not shown up for them. But he kept putting it off, telling himself that he would contact Lupin tomorrow. And when tomorrow came, he would put it off again, just for another day or two...

He did assign Dylan to work with him afterschool on the Mind Restoration Potion, although he didn't tell Dylan what it was. The less he knew about Death Eater business, the better, Snape figured. Snape had to do the actual brewing himself, as it was too delicate a process for even a talented student to handle, but he did allow Dylan to assist him in preparing the ingredients.

He also began Dylan's Occlumency lessons, using Dylan's "special project" as a cover. As far as the rest of the school was concerned, Dylan was assisting Snape in potion-brewing. It was a little unusual, but not completely unexpected, for a teacher to take an exceptionally talented young student under his wing and single him out for special attention. And most times, Dylan actually was helping him with the Mind Restoration Potion. But twice a week, after working on the potion, Snape taught Dylan Occlumency. And this time, although Dylan was much better behaved than Potter, Snape took no chances--he removed his thoughts well before Dylan arrived for his lessons, hid the Pensieve out of sight in a cabinet, and did not restore the thoughts to his head until after Dylan had left.

The boy, as Snape had suspected, was a natural; he certainly learned much more quickly than Potter had. {Though perhaps,} his conscience nagged, {that's because you're more patient with Dylan than with Potter...} The only problem Dylan had was that his fear and respect for Snape was so deeply ingrained that he found it difficult to attack his teacher...

"Damn it, Rosier!" Snape said in frustration. "You have to defend yourself, or you'll be helpless before the Dark Lord!"

"I'm sorry, sir," said Dylan. "It's just--it's difficult to bring myself to attack a teacher, especially you!"

Snape smiled in spite of himself, then said dryly, "Don't worry about hurting me, Rosier. I think I can manage to defend myself against a fourth-year student." Dylan blushed. "But you must try to ward off my attacks!"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's try this again, shall we? Empty your mind of emotion, and on the count of three...one--two--three--Legilimens!"
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

To Dylan's great relief, he received no further summonses from the Dark Lord. Draco eagerly asked him what had happened that night, but Dylan replied, as Snape had instructed, that he was not allowed to talk about it. And as Snape had predicted, Draco sulked but didn't try to force the issue.

"Don't worry, Draco," Dylan said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "I'm sure they'll summon you soon." {If you only knew what you were in for!} "Your father is the top-ranked advisor of our Lord, after all."

"That's right," Draco said, sounding happier as drew himself up with pride.

"Probably they have something special planned for when you join; maybe that's why you have to wait longer." {I just hope, for your sake, that "something special" isn't your mother laid out on an altar like a sacrificial lamb!}

"You're probably right, Rosier," Draco agreed, his hurt pride salved, and their relationship went more or less back to normal.


Hermione was harder to handle. He tried to avoid her, but she cornered him in the library one day. "Dylan, I want to tell you what I've been doing for S.P.E.W.--"

"I can't be a part of S.P.E.W. anymore," Dylan said, cutting her off. He reached into his pocket and handed her his badge.

She looked at him, confusion and concern on her face. "What happened, did Draco find out--?"

"No," Dylan said curtly. "But I can no longer take the chance that any of my housemates might find out about it if I wish to advance in Slytherin House. In fact, I think it's best that we don't see each other at all anymore." Hermione flinched, as if he had slapped her, and Dylan forced himself to continue in a cold voice, "It's nothing personal, Hermione, but it just isn't possible for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to be friends. Not if I wish to make something of myself in the wizarding world."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she said angrily, "I didn't know you cared so much about ambition and advancement, Dylan Rosier! But I guess you were sorted into the right house, after all! And after I defended you to Ron and Harry and everyone else who said, 'you can't trust a Slytherin'!" She turned on her heel and ran out of the library.

Dylan wanted to stop her, to tell her that he didn't really mean it, but he reminded himself that it was for her own safety--and his mother's as well, for if the Dark Lord believed Dylan was a traitor he would hurt, perhaps even kill, Ariane. So he stood and did nothing, even though it felt like his heart was breaking. {I was fooling myself, Father,} he thought, looking down at his ring. {I'm not such a ladies' man after all; there is only one girl I really want. But perhaps we are alike after all, for in the end you truly loved only one woman--my mother. But maybe she would have been better off if you had let her go...}


The one consolation he had was his after-hours work with Professor Snape. The Potions Master set him to work preparing ingredients for some devilishly complicated potion that had to be prepared to exacting specifications. He was pleased that Snape trusted him enough to let him help, although he would not tell Dylan what the potion was, or why they were making it, which made him suspect that it had something to do with the Death Eaters. So he did not ask, although he was very curious, because Professor Snape clearly thought it was something he was better off not knowing, and after all Snape had done to help him, it wasn't Dylan's place to question his teacher's judgment. And also, he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the fragile bond that had seemed to develop between them; their shared secret had somehow brought them closer. If someone had told him before this that Snape would hold and comfort a crying student, Dylan would have laughed in their face. But Snape had done exactly that, and risked his own safety to help Dylan, for no reason that he could see other than his supposed friendship with Dylan's father, and Dylan had already guessed that they had never really been close. But for whatever reason, Snape was protecting Dylan, and treating him kindly, in his own gruff way--he had even unbent enough to smile at Dylan a couple of times when he had performed well during the potion-making or his Occlumency lessons.

Dylan was progressing well in Occlumency, except that he found it difficult to bring himself to actually attack Snape, even with his teacher's permission. He could drain himself of emotion, and set up a protective wall around his thoughts, but not actively fight off Snape's attacks...

He felt Snape break through his defenses and a series of images rushed through his mind: Deirdre Donner telling Ariane, "Don't call me 'Mother'--you are no daughter of mine! We saved you from Azkaban only so you would not further shame the Donner name!"...Dull-witted Uncle Gilbert, who still had enough sanity left to hate Dylan, sneering, "You little Slytherin bastard!"...Uncle Gwydion telling an eleven-year old Dylan, "You will never be found fit to enter Hogwarts, you slimy little spawn of a Death Eater..."...And finally, his grandmother spitting out the words, "Tainted blood!"

"Damn it, Rosier!" Snape said; his voice was angry, but there was something like pity in his dark eyes, and Dylan felt ashamed that his teacher had seen him being berated and humiliated by his relatives. "You have to defend yourself, or you'll be helpless before the Dark Lord!"

"I'm sorry, sir," said Dylan. "It's just--it's difficult to bring myself to attack a teacher, especially you!"

Snape said dryly, "Don't worry about hurting me, Rosier. I think I can manage to defend myself against a fourth-year student."

Dylan blushed, feeling rather silly; of course there was no way he could actually hurt a wizard as powerful as Snape! But it was not really fear for Snape that had stopped him--it was more fear OF Snape, as well as his admiration for his teacher that made it difficult...

"But you must try to ward off my attacks!" Snape was insisting.

"Yes, sir."

"Let's try this again, shall we? Empty your mind of emotion, and on the count of three...one--two--three--Legilimens!"

This time when he felt his teacher attack his defenses, Dylan raised his wand and shouted the first spell that came to mind: "Impedimenta!" He felt the attack halt as Snape stumbled backwards a step, and suddenly he was seeing memories that were not his own: A young boy with black hair and a beaky nose performed a spell far advanced beyond his years as a man with a similar nose watched closely; the boy's face fell when his only reward was a curt nod...The same boy, his face lighting up as Professor Dumbledore entered his room and sat down to play a game of wizard chess with him...The boy, a few years older now, sitting in a classroom, looking proud and pleased with himself as a beautiful woman with long black hair and green eyes smiled at him and said, "Very good; Severus--ten points to Slytherin!"...The same boy hiding behind a tree near the lake on the Hogwarts grounds, watching with an intense, almost hungry look in his eyes as four boys laughed and played with a Golden Snitch: one was small and mousy, one was tall and handsome, one looked just like Potter, but it was the last boy that the young Snape seemed to be watching most closely--a thin, pale boy with long, untidy brown hair and blue eyes...

"Enough!" shouted Snape, and the visions ceased. Dylan blinked, and saw that Snape was breathing hard and looking paler than usual.

"Are you all right, Professor?" Dylan asked anxiously. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"It's all right, Rosier," Snape said curtly, cutting him off. "You did well."

"I did?" Dylan asked eagerly.

"Yes," Snape said. "Better than I had expected; I will have to be more careful in the future." There was an odd look in his black eyes, and Dylan felt extremely uncomfortable knowing that he had seen what were clearly some of his teacher's childhood memories. "Well, it seems you have gotten over your fear of attacking me," Snape continued, a hint of dry humor in his voice, and Dylan blushed again. "I think that's enough for tonight; continue practicing your mental exercises. Eventually, when you are strong enough, you will be able to ward off attacks solely with your mind, and not need to resort to using a wand. Now run along, or you'll be late for dinner."

"Yes, sir," Dylan said obediently, and left Snape's workshop. As he headed for the Great Hall, he was still distracted, and a little disturbed by what he had seen. Young Snape had looked so vulnerable and hungry for approval, so much different than the adult Snape who was cold and arrogant and didn't seem to care what anyone thought of him...but of course he could not be as cold as he appeared, or he would never have helped Dylan. And Dylan knew that Snape had hated Potter's father when they were students, but who was the long-haired boy that the teenaged Snape had been staring at so intently...?
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lupin sat in his room, brooding. He was trying to read a letter from Professor Kamiyama, but he could not concentrate hard enough to translate the Japanese characters into English; every time he tried, he got distracted by thoughts of Severus. And he could not talk about it with Sirius, nor with Branwen for fear of Sirius overhearing them, because Sirius was still angry at Snape about the Occlumency lessons, and Lupin didn't want to add fuel to that fire--things were bad enough as they were without making them worse.

Lupin was deeply hurt by Severus's last words--"But right now, Lupin, I really don't feel like looking at your face"--and scared, for the first time in two years, of losing Severus. Oh, he knew that deep down, Severus really did love him, and he tried to reassure himself with the the fact that Severus had also said, "You won't lose me." {He's angry, but he'll forgive me eventually,} Lupin told himself. {He just needs some time to cool off.}

But there had been a profound look of pain and anger in Severus's black eyes, such as Lupin had not seen since Sirius had returned to Hogwarts and Severus had believed that Lupin had betrayed him. One could not really say that Severus was scarred by the past, for scarring implied healing; Severus's wounds ran deep, and were still raw and unhealed. Lupin was very afraid that Severus would never be able to get over the past, never be able to let go of his hatred for James and Sirius; Severus was incapable of being rational about those two, and by extension, Harry.

And although they loved each other, and had for the most part a satisfactory--better than satisfactory!--relationship, at times the past lay between them like an unbridgeable gulf. Lupin was still haunted by the fact that he had failed to protect Severus in school, and Lupin knew that whenever Severus brooded about the past he was reminded that his feelings of love for Lupin had been mixed with equal parts of resentment and hatred. Even though they had each forgiven the other for whatever hurts, intentional and unintentional, that they had inflicted on each other, and even though Severus had proved his love for Lupin countless times over, Lupin knew that Severus still harbored some resentment towards him. It was buried deep, and emerged only occasionally, usually when Severus was in a bad mood and lost his temper, and he usually apologized afterwards, but it was still there. Lupin did not hold it against him; he only wished he could ease his lover's pain. But Lupin knew he could not expect Severus to suddenly become a carefree, light-hearted creature when he had spent most of his life building up walls to keep other people out. Bitterness had become so much a part of Severus that Lupin could not imagine what he would be like without it.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Lupin put what he hoped was a cheerful smile on his face and said, "Come in." To his relief, it was Branwen and not Sirius.

"Are you all right, Remus?" Branwen asked.

{So much for the cheerful smile,} Lupin thought in consternation.

"You are a talented mage, Remus," Branwen said with a smile, "but a very bad actor. Did you and Severus have a fight?"

"Sort of," Lupin sighed. "To say he's upset about Harry looking at his memories would be an understatement, and he was angry at me for insisting that he continue the Occlumency lessons. But he'll get over it. Eventually. I hope."

"He loves you, Remus," Branwen said reassuringly. "He'll forgive you. Though really, you haven't done anything that requires forgiveness; you were right about the Occlumency lessons and he knows it...which is probably why he's so angry."

"It's more than that," Lupin said unhappily. Unconsciously, he pulled out the quartz good-luck charm he always wore around his neck--his first Christmas present from Severus twenty years ago--and began fiddling with it. "He was reminded of our past; he's never really gotten over the way James treated him, and he's never gotten over the fact that I supposedly chose my friends over him. And maybe he's right about that," Lupin sighed. "I never stood up for him directly, and even when we became lovers, we kept it a secret, as if it were something to be ashamed of."

"As I recall, Severus was just as determined to keep your relationship hidden from the Slytherins as you were to keep it from the Gryffindors."

"And after we broke up," Lupin continued, ignoring Branwen's words, "I let him go. I should have tried harder to win him back; I should never have let him go over to Malfoy..."

"There is no point crying over spilled milk, Mr. Lupin," Branwen said impatiently, sounding like the stern Professor Blackmore he remembered from his schoolboy days, and Lupin smiled.

"I suppose I am wallowing in self-pity," Lupin admitted. "But Severus's wounds have never really healed. He has never forgiven James and Sirius, and I suspect a part of him cannot forgive me, even though he does love me..."

"Severus would make a good demon," Branwen said dryly, and Lupin looked puzzled. She smiled and said, "My grandfather Araqiel once told me demons never forgive and never forget."

"Yes, that sounds like Severus, all right," Lupin sighed. "Though I suppose he has forgiven me, or we would not be together, but I know he cannot forget the way I hurt him."

Branwen sighed also. "I'm afraid that Sirius is not the only one who needs to grow up..."

"It's not that simple, Branwen. Severus sees love as a kind of weakness...and his memories of the past only serve to confirm that theory." Lupin smiled sadly. "I suppose that's why he's so insistent that we keep our relationship a secret even now; he doesn't want to publicly expose his vulnerabilities. Come to think of it, that's probably why he's so good at Occlumency; he's spent his entire life hiding his emotions from the outside world..."

"Yes," Branwen murmured musingly. "That would be in character with his upbringing; his father always despised what he called 'sentimental fools'...but Remus, I don't think you should let this fester. Perhaps you should contact Severus--"

Lupin shook his head. "No, not while he's in this sort of mood, especially when I can't talk to him face-to-face. It's better to let him calm down a little, first." If Severus had been physically present, Lupin was sure he could cajole him out of his bad mood, but it was much harder when they had to communicate by mirror, when Severus could sever contact anytime he got in a snit. Well, that wasn't really fair...the time they spent apart was putting a strain on them both...

Branwen looked skeptical, but didn't argue. "Did you contact Dumbledore?"

"Yes, he was upset to hear about what happened, but he seems to blame himself more than Severus. He said he has placed so many burdens upon Severus, and perhaps this was one burden too many. But he was reassured to hear that Severus agreed to start the lessons again."

"And what did he say about Dylan Rosier?"

"He was concerned, of course, but agrees that Dylan should remain at school for now. He says he will contact Dylan's great-uncle, Mathias Donner, and warn him. He was a bit taken aback to hear that Severus insists on teaching Dylan Occlumency, but agrees that it's a good idea."

Branwen nodded. "Good; at least that's settled. Have you heard from Severus or Harry about whether he's actually resumed the lessons yet?"

"No, not yet. But Harry doesn't have a safe way to contact us, and Severus probably doesn't want to talk to me right now."

Branwen frowned. "This is more important than Severus's hurt pride, Remus. I'll contact him if you don't want to--"

"No!" said Lupin. "Please, Branwen, he'll be hurt and even more angry if he thinks we don't trust him." {And then it will take him even longer to forgive me...} Lupin thought. Aloud, he said, "It will be all right, Branwen. However angry he might be, I have never known Severus Snape to break a promise. If he says he'll teach Harry, then he will."

His former teacher frowned again, but said, "Very well, Remus. You know him best, I suppose; I'll trust your judgment."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry did not keep his promise to Lupin about talking to Snape; he kept putting it off, telling himself that he was giving Snape time to cool down. Harry was a little afraid of how Snape would react during Potions class, expecting Snape to be even nastier towards him than usual, but Snape had apparently decided to deal with the matter by behaving as if Harry did not exist. Since that was a distinct improvement over how Snape had treated him before, Harry made no complaint. If Lupin had told Snape to continue the Occlumency lessons, Snape must be ignoring him as thoroughly as he was now ignoring Harry. He felt a little guilty every now and then, but Harry figured he had enough to deal with studying for his O.W.L.s without having to take extra classes. {After the O.W.L.s are over,} Harry told himself, trying to ease his guilty conscience, {then maybe I'll go talk to Snape...}

But that never happened, because during the History of Magic exam, Harry had a vision of Voldemort torturing Sirius, trying to force him to take a glass sphere down from a shelf in the Department of Mysteries--the mysterious weapon Voldemort had been seeking? Hermione tried to tell him that Voldemort might be trying to trick him, but he couldn't take that chance. Harry was all for heading straight to the Department of Mysteries, but finally he agreed to try and contact Sirius first in Umbridge's fireplace.

His friends arranged a distraction so he could get into her office, but Kreacher answered his call instead of Sirius. "Where has Sirius gone?" Harry yelled. "Kreacher, has he gone to the Department of Mysteries?!"

"Master does not tell poor Kreacher where he is going."

"But you know! Don't you? You know where he is!"

The elf paused, then cackled, "Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries! Kreacher and his Mistress are alone again!"

Then Harry felt a sharp pain on the top of his head; Umbridge was dragging him out of the fireplace by his hair. Malfoy was leaning on the windowsill smirking at him as his Slytherin classmates dragged in Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked to be in immediate danger of suffocation. Umbridge sent Draco off to fetch Professor Snape.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Malfoy burst into Snape's office, looking extremely smug, and told him that Headmistress Umbridge wanted to see him. As they headed for her office, Malfoy nattered on about how Potter and his friends were in big trouble this time, and would probably be expelled.

{Damn that brat,} Snape thought sourly. {What has he done this time? And how am I supposed to get him out of trouble without exposing my cover?}

Snape entered Umbridge's office and looked around indifferently at the pairs of struggling students as he said, "You wanted to see me, Headmistress?"

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge with a wide smile. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he lied coolly. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient." Of course the Veritaserum he had given her earlier had been fake, anyway. He supposed he could give her another fake bottle, but he thought it would be better to try and bluff his way out of this, because he didn't think Potter would be able to lie convincingly enough.

Umbridge flushed. "You can make some more, can't you?"

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling in a sneer. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge. "A MONTH? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" Snape blinked, feigning an air of mild interest as he looked at Potter. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules." He stared into Potter's eyes, and Potter stared back at him unflinchingly, as if trying to tell him something. For the first time, Snape cursed himself for not continuing Potter's Occlumency lessons; if he had, perhaps he might have been able to pick up a hint from Potter's mind of what he was trying to convey...

"I wish to interrogate him!" Umbridge snapped. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," Snape said smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter--and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy if you did--I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling..."

Snape looked at Potter one more time; the boy's eyes were frantic, but he still couldn't pick up on Potter's thoughts. If only he could use his wand...but of course he could not start casting spells in front of Umbridge...

"You are on probation!" shrieked Umbridge. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I had expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave when Potter shouted desperately, "He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape froze, his hand on the door handle, while Umbridge turned to Snape and asked eagerly, "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape looked at Potter, careful to keep his face inscrutable. "I have no idea," he said coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me, I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job." Then he slammed the door behind him and left.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry watched his last hope walk out the door. But Hermione, of all people, lied to Umbridge, inventing a crazy story about building a weapon for Dumbledore and lured her into the Forbidden Forest where they were able to escape and set off in search of Sirius...
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The first thing Snape did was go to his quarters and contact Black through his mirror. "Black!" he shouted. "Black, answer me! BLACK!"

Sirius Black's face appeared in the mirror, looking puzzled and a little annoyed. "You don't have to shout, Snape," he said. "What's so urgent?" Then Black began to look a little worried. "Is Harry all right?"

"Are YOU all right? Where are you?"

Black frowned. "Where do you think I am? At Grimmauld Place, of course, in my little 'hidey-hole,' as you like to refer to it. And since when are you so concerned about my well-being?"

"Since Potter seems to think that the Dark Lord is holding you in the Department of Mysteries."

"WHAT?!" exclaimed Black, and then the anxious faces of Branwen and Lupin crowded into the mirror.

"Severus," Lupin said, his blue eyes filled with concern, "is Harry having more visions?"

"Apparently," Snape replied. "I couldn't really question him about it, because Umbridge caught him in her office..." Snape quickly explained what had happened. "He must have been trying to reach Black through the fire...idiot boy, he should have just come to me in the first place--"

Branwen was frowning. "Voldemort must be using the bond between them to try and trick Harry. The Occlumency lessons haven't been helping, then?"

Snape's face flushed red, and Black must have read correctly the look of guilt in his eyes because he shouted, "You bastard! You haven't been teaching Harry, have you?!"

"Severus!" Lupin exclaimed, looking shocked. "You didn't continue the lessons? But you promised..."

The look of bewilderment and disappointment in Lupin's eyes made Snape feel far worse than any insult Black could have screamed at him. "He never came back to my office," Snape mumbled. "He never showed up for his lessons..."

"You slimy son-of-a-bitch!" screamed Sirius. "You've been teaching your Death Eater friend's son, but you can't be bothered to teach Harry when his life depends on it--"

"We don't have time for this now," Branwen interrupted. "But I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Snape."

Snape hung his head in shame. His old teacher was one of the few people whose opinion mattered to him, whose approval he had craved as a child...to see the looks of disappointment and betrayal on her face and Lupin's made Snape wish he could sink right through the floor and disappear. "I'm sorry, Professor," he whispered.

"We'll deal with apologies and recriminations later," Branwen said, as Black glared at Snape through the mirror. "Right now you have to go to Harry and tell him Sirius is all right before he does something foolish."

"Yes, Professor," Snape said meekly. "I suppose it's a good thing Umbridge caught him; at least while he's locked up in her office, he can't go running off to the Ministry of Magic."

"Report back to us at once after you speak to Harry," Branwen ordered, then broke off contact as Black shouted, "If anything happens to Harry, I'll--"

Snape filled an empty potion bottle with water and shoved it in his pocket before he left; he'd need an excuse to go back to Umbridge's office, so he'd tell her that he had managed to "find" another bottle of Veritaserum. He was halfway there when he literally ran into Draco Malfoy.

"Professor!" Malfoy gasped, panting and out of breath. Snape stared in shock at the boy: his face was covered with flapping bat wings. "Potter and Granger--they tricked the Headmistress into going to the Forbidden Forest with them--some crazy story about building a weapon for Dumbledore! And then the others--Longbottom, the Weasleys, and that crazy Luna Lovegood--they attacked us--hexed me--and went after them!"

"You idiots!" Snape raged. "You let a few Gryffindors overpower you? Including Longbottom, that incompetent little--" Snape broke off his tirade; he didn't have time for this. "Oh, never mind! Get yourself to the hospital wing, I'll deal with this!"

Cursing under his breath, Snape ran back to his quarters. {Stupid boy!} he thought. {Didn't he realize I got his message?} The first thing he did was to try and reach Dumbledore, but as the Headmaster was still in hiding, he was unable to contact him directly, but he did have the means to send and leave a message, which he did, asking Dumbledore to go directly to Phoenix headquarters and contact him. Next, he used the mirror to contact Black and the others, dreading the confrontation that was sure to follow...

"Damn you, Snape, this is all your fault!" Black shouted.

"Laying blame won't help now," Branwen said impatiently. "We've got to stop them before they reach Voldemort!"

"You'll need more than yourself and Lupin to take on the Dark Lord," Snape warned. "And he's bound to have at least some of his Death Eaters with him."

"Alastor, Kingsley, and Tonks are here right now," Branwen said.

Tonks's spiky-haired visage appeared in the mirror and waved at Snape. "Don't worry, Severus," she said cheerfully, "we'll bring Harry back home safe and sound!"

"I'm going with you," Black announced.

"You're not to leave the house," Branwen said, turning back into Professor Blackmore and giving him her most intimidating glare.

"I'm not going to sit around and twiddle my thumbs while my godson is in danger!" Black said hotly, for once not cowed by his former teacher's gaze.

"The Headmaster will be there any minute," Snape protested. "Someone has to stay behind and tell him what's going on!"

"I'll leave a message with Kreacher," Sirius said, brushing off Snape's objection.

"Damn it, Black, don't be so self-centered--"

"Don't you dare lecture me, Snape!" Black shouted. "This is all your fault, you know!"

"We don't have time for this!" Mad-Eye Moody snapped.

"Sirius, you WILL stay behind," Branwen said, using her most strident, no-nonsense professorial voice and glare.

"I will not!" Black retorted. "Do you think I care about being captured when Harry's in trouble? And who knows how many Death Eaters Voldemort's got with him--you'll need every available man!" He glanced at Branwen and Tonks and added, "Or woman, of course." Branwen opened her mouth to object, and Black said in an obstinate voice, "You'll have to tie me up and knock me unconscious to stop me!" Branwen looked tempted to do exactly that, and Black hastily added, "And as soon as I wake up, I'll free myself and follow you!"

"Oh, very well," Branwen sighed. "We don't have time to argue. We'll set off for the Ministry at once. Severus, please stay by the mirror and wait for word from the Headmaster."

Snape paced back and forth in his quarters, cursing both Black and himself, until finally Dumbledore contacted him through the mirror. "Headmaster!"

"Severus," said Dumbledore, his voice heavy; Snape could see the living room of the Grimmauld Place house in the background behind him. "It was a trap; I have just finished questioning Kreacher--he has been reporting to Narcissa Malfoy--"

"What?" exclaimed Snape. "How--"

"I don't have time to explain, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted. "They are all in great danger; I am going after them."

"What should I do, Headmaster?"

"Go to my office and wait for me there. If I'm able, I'll send the children to safety there. I'll contact you as soon as I can."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry and his friends got to the Department of Mysteries, and found that it was indeed a trap after all; there were a dozen Death Eaters lying in wait for them. One of them had a pair of intense gray eyes peering through the slits of his hood that seemed oddly familiar. He knew that Draco and his father had gray eyes, and thought perhaps it was Lucius Malfoy, except that another black-robed figure said, "To me, Potter," in Lucius Malfoy's voice. And then Harry was too busy trying to escape to worry about who the other Death Eater was...

Harry and his friends fled with the prophecy sphere, but were eventually cornered near the dais where the strange stone archway stood. The Death Eaters caught Neville and threatened to kill him. Harry was just about to hand over the prophecy to save him, when Sirius and several of the other Order members appeared out of nowhere; they began fighting the Death Eaters, and Sirius shouted at Harry to run. Harry was trying to flee with Neville when he dropped the sphere and it shattered. He was horrified, but was too busy trying to save himself and Neville to worry about what the loss of the sphere might mean. And then, to his great relief, Dumbledore appeared as well--they were saved!

Meanwhile, Sirius and Bellatrix Lestrange were dueling; Sirius ducked the jet of red light that shot from her wand. He laughed and taunted, "Come on, you can do better than that!"

The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.

"SIRIUS!" screamed Harry. He saw a look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he tumbled backwards towards the ragged veil hanging from the arch on the dais.

Blackmore, who was closest to him, lunged forward and grabbed his arm. They both nearly fell through the veil, but apparently she was much stronger than she looked, because she was able to haul him back to safety even though Sirius was several inches taller and a good many pounds heavier than her. He collapsed on top of her, and they both fell to the floor of the dais. Bellatrix raised her wand, but Bane had launched himself into the air and was diving at her, clawing at her eyes; he missed, but spoiled her aim. She aimed her next attack at him, but the raven easily evaded it, cawing at her mockingly.

Kingsley Shacklebolt ran forward to continue the duel with Bellatrix, and Lupin and Harry rushed towards Sirius and Blackmore. "Is he all right?" shouted Harry.

Blackmore had rolled Sirius onto his back. He was unconscious, and there was a huge, raw wound on his chest that was charred around the edges; the front of his robes had been burned away. "It's not good," said Blackmore gravely. "He took a direct hit."

"But he won't die, right?" Harry asked desperately. "He can't die!" But he saw the fear and grief in Lupin's eyes, and the sympathy in Blackmore's normally cold green eyes as she turned to look at him. Behind him, he heard Kingsley cry out in pain, and turned to see Bellatrix running away as Kingsley fell to the ground. Harry ran after her.

"Harry--no!" Lupin shouted, reaching out to grab Harry, but he was too late.

"I'LL KILL HER! SHE HURT SIRIUS--I'LL KILL HER!"

He battled with Bellatrix, laughing at her panic when he told her the prophecy was smashed. Then Voldemort appeared, and Dumbledore battled him. Voldemort fled, possessing Harry briefly before he left. His scar and his head exploded with pain, but he didn't care, all he cared about was Sirius... He was still feeling dazed and shaken when Dumbledore handed Harry a Portkey and told him to return to Hogwarts with Lupin, Blackmore, and Sirius.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry's feet hit solid ground again; his knees buckled a little and the Portkey, the golden wizard's head, fell to the floor with a resounding "clunk". They had arrived in the Headmaster's office. Snape was sitting behind the Headmaster's desk, but jumped to his feet when he saw them. "Lupin, Branwen--what happened?!"

At any other time, the sight of Snape sitting in the Headmaster's place would have filled Harry with anger, but right now all he cared about was Sirius, and he would accept help from anyone, even Professor Snape. "Sirius is hurt!" sobbed Harry. "We have to get him to Madam Pomfrey!"

Lupin and Blackmore eased Sirius down onto the floor. "I'm afraid it's too late," Blackmore said softly. "He's slipping away. He'll be gone before we get him that far. No one can survive a direct hit from such a spell; I'm amazed he's lasted this long." From his perch on her shoulder, Bane cawed mournfully.

Lupin choked back a sob, and Harry screamed, "No! He won't die--he can't die!" He grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and started shaking him. "Come on, Sirius, wake up! Please, Sirius, please don't die...somebody do something!"

A hand closed around his shoulder and roughly pulled him back from Sirius's unresponsive form. "Out of the way, boy," Snape said curtly. His black eyes were glittering strangely, and he held a silver letter opener--one that had been lying on Dumbledore's desk earlier--in one hand. Before Harry could protest, Snape crouched down beside Sirius, pulled up the sleeve of his left arm, and slashed the letter opener down across his arm, just below a copper serpent-shaped bracelet on his wrist. Then he dropped the letter opener and pulled his wand out of his robes with his right hand. He lifted the wand and said, "Sanguis--"

"NO!" screamed Lupin, lunging at Snape and grabbing his right arm, disrupting the spell. "Don't do it, Severus, I won't lose you, too!"

"What's going on?" Harry asked frantically, turning to Blackmore, who was staring intently at the struggling pair, her green eyes narrowed.

"Severus is attempting to cast a very ancient spell--Sanguis Sanatio, or Blood Healing," she said in a calm, didactic tone, as if she were teaching in a classroom instead of watching a comrade die. "It is a type of blood magic where the caster can transfer the life force of one person to another. It is prohibited by the Ministry of Magic as a form of the Dark Arts because normally the donor is an unwilling victim. However, the caster can attempt to transfer his own life force to another, but it is extremely dangerous, particularly when the recipient is as close to death as Sirius is. It makes the bond between the two very difficult to break, and the caster might find himself unable to end the spell before all his life force is sucked out of him. If that happens, the recipient will live, but the caster will die."

Harry's jaw dropped open. Snape was willing to risk his live to save Sirius?! But he hated Sirius--why was he doing this? And why was Lupin trying to stop him? Yes, Lupin was kind to everyone, even Snape, but Sirius was his best friend, and if Snape was willing to take the risk...

Snape saw the look on Harry's face and snarled, "I'm not doing it for you, Potter! Nor for him!" He jerked his head in Sirius's direction. Then he looked directly into Lupin's blue eyes and said quietly, "I'm doing it for you."

Harry sat down hard on the floor, the shock of that statement hitting him like a physical blow. {Why would he do that for Lupin? He hates Lupin, doesn't he...?}

Then Lupin shocked him even further by screaming, "I don't want you to!" There were tears streaming down his face as he continued to struggle with Snape, trying to wrench the wand out of his hand.

"Not even to save Black?" Snape whispered.

"No!" sobbed Lupin. "I can't lose you, not again..."

An oddly triumphant smile spread across Snape's face, and his black eyes were shining. He looked as if someone had just told him that Slytherin had won the House Cup, that he had been given the DADA position, and that Harry had just been expelled--all his fondest wishes granted at once. "Then I will do it," he said softly, "for you." Lupin started screaming again, and Snape called out irritably, "Branwen, get him off of me before I bleed to death without even finishing the spell!"

Once again, Harry thought that Blackmore must be stronger than she looked, because she was able to haul Lupin off of Snape without too much effort. "Are you sure about this, Severus?" she asked.

"Yes," he said calmly.

"NO!" Lupin was screaming, but Blackmore had her arms locked firmly around him. "Branwen, you've got to stop him, don't let him do it--" he pleaded as he struggled to break free of her grasp.

"You once told me not to stop you from making your own decisions," Snape said. "So don't interfere with mine."

Harry wished he would stop talking and just get on with it before Sirius died, then felt ashamed of himself. Was it wrong of him not to care if Snape died as long as it would save Sirius? But Snape had volunteered, though Harry still didn't understand why...

Snape lifted his wand and shouted, "SANGUIS SANATIO!" and held his bleeding arm over Sirius's face, allowing the blood to drip into his mouth. Though Sirius was still unconscious, he made a choking, gurgling sound, then swallowed. The blood began to flow faster, gushing out of the shallow cut at an abnormally fast rate. Sirius continued to swallow, although his eyes remained closed and his body remained still. Color began fill Sirius's pale face again, while Snape gradually turned whiter. The wand fell from his hand to the floor with a clatter, and Snape slumped across Sirius's body. His arm dropped, but landed on Sirius's mouth, and Sirius sucked at the wound greedily, swallowing convulsively, and Harry shuddered. His godfather looked like a vampire; he could understand why the Ministry had made the spell forbidden.

Sirius's body began to twitch, and Lupin shouted, "ENOUGH! HE'S HEALED, ALREADY! BRANWEN, STOP HIM--" Blackmore let go of Lupin, and they both pulled Snape away from Sirius, but Sirius's mouth remained locked onto Snape's arm.

Blackmore slapped Snape's face--once, twice, three times--until his eyes fluttered open and he looked around groggily. "You have to end the spell, Severus!" she said urgently. "Get his wand, Remus!" Lupin pressed the wand into Snape's hand. "Hurry, Severus!" Blackmore cried. "I don't want to lose anymore of my students!" Were those tears glistening in her green eyes...?

Snape feebly lifted the wand and croaked, "Fi...Finite Incantatum." The words were barely audible, but apparently that was enough, for his arm fell free of Sirius's mouth.

Blackmore hovered over Snape anxiously for a moment; his skin looked pale and waxy--even more unhealthy than usual, but he was breathing shallowly, and the sorceress smiled. "He'll be all right," she said, sounding relieved. She smoothed his greasy hair back from his face in a gesture that was almost motherly--Harry had seen Mrs. Weasley do the same thing to Ron and his siblings many times--and tenderly kissed him on the forehead. "You did well, child," she said softly. "I'm so proud of you." Despite his concern for Sirius, Harry couldn't help but stare at her for a moment. He knew Blackmore had taught Snape, Lupin, and Sirius when they were students at Hogwarts, but she had not aged, and it was very strange to see her caressing a man who looked older than her in a motherly fashion while calling him "child". She seemed to sense his thoughts, and flashed a quick smile at Harry, then turned back to Snape and said, "Or rather, I'm so proud of the man you have become, Severus." Snape smiled faintly, and then Lupin threw himself across Snape's chest, sobbing hysterically. Blackmore patted him on the shoulder and said reassuringly, "He'll be fine, Remus." Then she said, "Come, Harry, let's see to Sirius."

She didn't need to tell him twice; he ran over and knelt at his godfather's side. "Sirius?" he called anxiously. Sirius twitched again, then his eyelids flew open and he made a choking sound. He sat up and spat out a mouthful of blood. "Ugh, what's this awful taste in my mouth?" he asked. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then stared at the blood that came off on it. "Wha--what happened?" he stammered, patting himself on his now-healed chest, as if searching for wounds. "The last thing I remember, Bellatrix hit me with a spell--"

"You almost died, Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, his words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. "But Dumbledore came and fought off Voldemort and gave us a Portkey back here and Professor Snape saved your life--"

"WHAT!?"

"It's true, Sirius," Blackmore said, trying to sound stern, but looking as if she wanted to laugh. "Severus used a Sanguis Sanatio spell to heal you--"

"WHAT!?"

"--So you ought to thank him."

Sirius looked over incredulously, to where Snape was lying a few feet away from him. Lupin was still lying across his chest, sobbing quietly, while Snape patted him on the back awkwardly, looking embarrassed but pleased. His left arm was still covered with blood, but the wound had begun to close and scab over, forming an angry red line just below his wrist. "B--b--but," Sirius stuttered. He started to say something, but seemed to change his mind and said instead, "That spell is forbidden!"

"Mr. Black!" Blackmore said indignantly, sounding like the schoolteacher she used to be; Harry half expected her to give Sirius detention right then and there. "Severus saved your life at great risk to his own, show some gratitude!" Harry had mixed emotions; he wanted to defend his godfather, but Sirius WAS acting awfully ungrateful...

Sirius looked both angry and ashamed at the same time. He ran his tongue across his lips, tasting the blood still smeared there, and a look of horror gradually dawned on his face as he realized that the blood belonged to Snape.

"You should know better than to expect common courtesy from Black, Branwen," Snape said calmly. He was still pale and his voice was weak, but he seemed to be in good spirits. "If you prefer, Black, I'll take back my blood and let you die..."

"NO!" shouted Harry, although he realized a moment later that Snape was joking. {JOKING?! Did Snape just make a JOKE!?} "Thank you Professor Snape, thank you so much for saving Sirius!" Harry said earnestly. He still hated Snape, but he was so grateful to have Sirius back that he could have kissed the Potions Master right on his oversized nose.

"Hmmph!" Snape grunted, turning red. Lupin looked up and managed a small laugh, although his eyes were red and his face streaked with tears. "I told you, boy," Snape said in a testy voice, sounding much more like his normal self, "I didn't do it for you!"

"Then who did you do it for?" Sirius asked sharply. Snape just gave him a look that clearly said he thought Sirius was an imbecile.

"He said he did it for Professor Lupin," Harry replied, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't supposed to call Lupin "Professor" anymore. Snape's face turned even redder, and Sirius looked quite put out for someone who had just been brought back from death's door. Lupin giggled, and Blackmore had a very amused look on her face. Harry looked back and forth at the adults; he was obviously the only one who didn't know what was going on. Despite his relief and happiness, he felt a little irritated, and asked Snape, "Why would you save Sirius for Lupin's sake? I thought you hated him!"

He half expected his teacher to yell at him that it was none of Harry's business, but Snape just looked at Lupin and said, "The boy's a bit dim, isn't he? If he's supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world, we're all in a lot of trouble..."

Harry turned to Sirius, staring at him expectantly. "You don't want to know," Sirius said darkly.

"You'll understand when you're older, dear," Blackmore said, her green eyes sparkling with laughter as the corners of her mouth kept twitching up in that amused little smile. Bane cawed raucously; even the bird seemed to be laughing at Harry!

"I've just fought a bunch of Death Eaters and nearly been killed by Voldemort!" Harry shouted. "Don't treat me like a child!" Snape and Sirius both looked horrified; Harry had heard the stories about her fearsome reputation but right at this moment, he didn't care. The pent-up anger and frustration that had been building up all year suddenly spilled out, even though it wasn't really Blackmore that he was angry at.

But instead of yelling at him or turning him into a toad, she merely gave him a sympathetic look and briefly reached out to touch his cheek. "You're right, Harry. You've been forced to do things that no child should have to do, and endured terrors that would have broken many grown men. But this is not for me to tell; it is between Remus and Severus, and if they wish to keep it private, you must abide by that."

"So who says Remus wants to keep it private?" Lupin asked, a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. He was eyeing Snape with a look that was oddly predatory.

And Snape, oddly enough, looked frightened of him. "No, Lupin!" he said frantically. "Don't you dare--" He tried to scramble back away from Lupin, but was still too weak to move more than a few inches. Lupin seized Snape's face, holding it firmly between his hands, and kissed Snape full on the mouth.

Harry's jaw dropped again, and he nearly fainted with shock. Blackmore burst out into peals of laughter. A detached part of his mind noted that he had never heard her laugh before; it was a beautiful, almost musical sound. But the rest of him was consumed with horror as watched Lupin--Lupin, who had been his friend and favorite teacher, Lupin whom Snape had hated so much that he had exposed Lupin as a werewolf and had him kicked out of Hogwarts--kiss Snape, not just a little peck, but a hungry, devouring kiss. Snape struggled weakly, clawing ineffectually at Lupin's hands, then suddenly seemed to give in. His hands closed around Lupin's wrists, seeming to hold them in place instead of trying to pull them away, and he returned the kiss, almost against his will. {Merlin's beard!} Harry thought. {How long is this going to go on? Don't they have to breathe?!} His brief kiss with Cho had been nothing like this! He couldn't stand watching them anymore, and turned to look at Sirius instead. His godfather looked both furious and horrified, but not surprised.

Blackmore kept laughing, and Sirius glared at her. "This is all your fault, you know!"

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Severus and Remus became...friends...when I forced them to work on a project together in my class during their fifth year," she replied serenely. "I wanted to promote inter-House cooperation, not play matchmaker, but I confess I was not displeased with the results."

"B-but, they hate each other," Harry stammered. No, that was not quite true; he remembered during their talk about the memories he had seen in the Pensieve that Lupin had said he did not hate Snape, and certainly, even as an adult, Lupin never seemed to resent Snape, no matter how nasty he was to Lupin. "At least, Professor Snape hates Lupin..."

"There is a very thin line between love and hate, Harry," Blackmore replied, looking serious once again. "And Mr. Black's foolish prank turned Severus against Remus, and drove a wedge between them for many years." She gave Sirius a cold look, and he squirmed like a sullen schoolboy being scolded by his teacher, looking defiant and guilty at the same time.

Sirius muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Slimy git."

Blackmore's eyebrows shot up into her forehead and her green eyes blazed. "What was that, Mr. Black?!" she snapped, and Harry hoped she wouldn't kill Sirius and undo all of Snape's hard work.

But Sirius was saved, because Lupin had finally ended the kiss, and Blackmore turned towards them, distracted, as Snape spluttered, "How--how could you?! And in front of the boy!" His voice was shrill with indignation, but a little breathless, and he looked utterly mortified. His eyes flickered towards Harry, then quickly looked away again, as he blushed deeply.

"You sound like a deflowered maiden in a bad novel, Mr. Snape," Blackmore said dryly, and Snape's face turned even redder as Sirius chortled with laughter. Blackmore's head swiveled back towards him. "Oh, shut up, Sirius! I just might lose my temper, and I don't think Severus is willing to perform a Blood Healing on you a second time!"

"Lupin tried to stop me, you know, Black!" Snape suddenly called out in a nasty voice, his black eyes glinting with their old malice. "He would rather you die than me--"

"SEVERUS!" Lupin shouted, anger, horror, and guilt all merged into one anguished wail.

There was a loud CRACK! as Blackmore slapped Snape hard across the face. And when Sirius opened his mouth, she slapped him as well for good measure. "Stop acting like children!" she screamed furiously. "I've seen first-years who are more mature than you two! It's one thing if you're just hurting each other, but your stupid, petty quarrels are hurting someone who loves you both, someone who is much too good for either of you!"

Sirius rubbed his cheek and gave Lupin a hurt, disbelieving look. Snape's face must have been equally sore, because there was bright red handprint on his cheek where Blackmore had slapped him, but Snape ignored it. He was looking at Lupin, who was staring at him with a stricken expression on his face. Snape flushed and dropped his eyes for a moment, then lifted them again and whispered, "I'm sorry, Remus." Harry had never seen Snape look or sound so sincerely remorseful; in fact, he had never known Snape to show any remorse before, period.

Blackmore calmed down a little when she heard that, but she was still angry. "Sirius, Severus risked his life to save yours, and you didn't even have the decency to give him a simple 'thank you'! And Severus, I don't understand how you can be so noble one minute and so childish the next: you risked your life to save someone you hate for the sake of someone you love, then you turn around and say something spiteful like that!"

"I don't lo--" Snape automatically started to protest, then saw the hurt look in Lupin's eyes, and said quietly, "I don't deny that I'm a fool. I was angry at Black and lost my temper, but I didn't mean to hurt you, Lupin."

"You were angry at me too, Severus," Lupin said softly. "For embarrassing you in front of Harry. And I apologize for doing that. But after your noble, self-sacrificing act--" Lupin smiled faintly, and Snape blushed. "--I thought he would figure it out eventually. And to be honest, I'm tired of hiding our relationship. We could have spent so much more time together this year if you hadn't been afraid of Harry and the others finding out about us."

Snape looked shamefaced, and suddenly all the strange little details Harry had noticed over the past year clicked together: the times Snape and Lupin had disappeared together, Snape's odd behavior at Christmas and the way Lupin had playfully teased him, Sirius's resentment and Blackmore's amusement...Snape and Lupin were in love with each other!? Harry's head started spinning; he had not received such shocking news since he had first found out he was a wizard!

"You're not ashamed of me, are you, Severus?" Lupin asked quietly.

"No!" Snape protested. "It's just--well, if the Death Eaters find out--"

"I understand that, Severus," Lupin said patiently. "I'm not suggesting that you shout it from the Astronomy Tower. But surely the members of the Order can be trusted--"

"Perhaps. But the children will spread it all over the school," Snape complained, glaring at Harry.

"Well, perhaps the Weasley children should not be told," Lupin conceded. "At least, not Fred and George, at any rate. But I'm sure Harry can keep his own counsel."

"He'd better!" Snape snarled, still glaring at Harry. "I swear, Potter, if you breathe one word of this to anyone I'll--"

"Severus," Blackmore interrupted in a tone of warning. Then she turned to Harry and said, "I expect you to respect Professor Snape's privacy, Mr. Potter. His personal life is no one else's business, and you do owe him a debt for saving Sirius."

"Harry doesn't owe him anything--" Sirius began indignantly.

"We all do," Blackmore said loudly, overriding him, although she didn't seem to be particularly grateful that Sirius was alive and well at that moment. "Is that clear, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes ma'am," said Harry. He didn't like it, but she was right; he did owe Snape one for saving Sirius. To Snape he said, "I won't say anything, Professor, I promise."

"You'd better keep this promise better than you kept the last one," Snape growled, but subsided when Lupin whispered something into his ear.

Then the empty fireplace burst into emerald-green flames and Dumbledore emerged from the fire. "Sirius!" he exclaimed, looking shocked to find him alive. Sirius grinned and Dumbledore embraced him, saying, "Oh my! Thank goodness, my boy..."

"Severus saved him," Blackmore announced helpfully, and Sirius scowled. "With a Sanguis Sanatio spell."

"He did?!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Very impressive, Severus!" He looked as if he would embrace Snape as well, and the Potions Master took a hasty step back. Dumbledore smiled and settled for giving him a hearty handshake and a clap on the back. "I hope you thanked him, Sirius."

Sirius flushed, looked down at his feet, and mumbled, "ThankyouSnape."

"What was that, Black?" Snape asked, cupping a hand over his ear. "I couldn't quite hear you." Lupin sighed, and Blackmore glared at them again.

"I said, thank you, you slimy git!" shouted Sirius.

"As gracious as ever, Black," Snape smirked. "But you're welcome."

"I'm sure you'll all be glad to know that everyone else is all right," Dumbledore said. "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems that she will make a full recovery." Everyone except for Snape made relieved noises, and Dumbledore said, "I believe Sirius and Severus should get some rest now themselves, and I do need to have a word with Harry in private."

Sirius, Blackmore, Lupin, and Snape filed out of the room, leaving through the fireplace. As Snape passed by Harry, leaning heavily on Lupin, he whispered menacingly, "You'd better keep your promise, boy!" but Lupin smiled and gave Harry a wink over Snape's shoulder.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Snape had been shocked when the others appeared in the Headmaster's office with Sirius Black's dying body. Snape had been prepared for injuries, and brought several bottles of healing potions and salves with him to the office, but it was clear that Black was far beyond such help. Potter was sobbing and screaming piteously, but that was not what had moved Snape to pick up the letter opener from Dumbledore's desk. No, it was the look of devastation on Lupin's face as he watched his last childhood friend slowly dying on the floor. Lupin had suffered so much already; he didn't want him to have to suffer anymore.

{You don't think that he'll suffer if YOU die?} the sarcastic voice in his head asked.

{I don't intend to die!} Snape retorted silently, but the spell was risky, and he had performed it only once before, many years ago, when Voldemort had forced him to transfer the life force of a Mudblood captive to a wounded Death Eater. He had never tried it on himself. But while Lupin would certainly mourn if Snape died, Black was his oldest friend. They had known each other longer, since they were eleven years old, and deep in his heart, Snape had always feared that Lupin loved Black more than him, despite Lupin's protests and the Headmaster's lectures about love not being something that was divided up like a pie. Black was Lupin's last link to the past, and there was a bond between them, forged during their childhood years, that Snape could never touch, and feared he could never equal. Lupin loved Black and needed Black, so Snape was willing to risk his life for Black however much he hated the arrogant prat. For Lupin's sake.

"Somebody do something!" Potter screamed, and Snape obliged, shoving the boy out of the way as he pulled up his sleeve and slashed his arm. He had just raised his wand and begun to utter the spell words when Lupin lunged at him screaming, "NO!"

"Don't do it, Severus," Lupin cried, grabbing at his right arm. "I won't lose you, too!"

Potter was staring at them with a look of shock on his face, and Snape snarled, "I'm not doing it for you! Nor for him!" To Lupin he said softly, "I'm doing it for you."

"I don't want you to!" Lupin screamed.

Snape felt a fierce sense of joy at those words. "Not even to save Black?" he whispered.

"No!" sobbed Lupin, trying to snatch the wand from his hand. "I can't lose you, not again..."

Snape had never felt so happy in all his life, not even when he had kissed Lupin for the first time, not even when Lupin had said the words, "I love you." His heart swelled with that fierce sense of joy, as well as a bitter, sharp-edged rush of triumph. {FINALLY!} he exulted, wanting to shout it out to the world. {He chose me over Black! He loves me more than he loves Black!} His eyes filled with unshed tears of satisfaction, and he felt a wide smile spreading across his face. "Then I will do it for you," he said. Now that he knew Lupin really loved him, he didn't mind the thought of dying; he would do anything for Lupin--even give his life for Black. Well, he would have done it anyway, to be honest, but now he would do it gladly, at peace with himself, for his deepest desire had finally been fulfilled. Lupin started screaming even louder, though, and Snape called out for Branwen to get Lupin off of him.

He brushed off Branwen's query and Lupin's protests, and invoked the spell. The blood drained out of his body at an alarming rate, and as he grew lightheaded with blood loss, he realized that there was indeed a very good chance that he might die. {Ah well,} he thought. {Better to die making Lupin happy than at Voldemort's hands. And that bastard Black will be indebted to me for the rest of his life, just as I was to Potter senior...} There was a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he finally lost consciousness and fell across Black's body.

He felt someone slapping his face and heard someone calling out his name. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was not Lupin, but Branwen's face, her green eyes tearful and worried. {Professor Blackmore crying? Over ME?} Snape wondered if the blood loss had caused him to hallucinate.

"You have to end the spell, Severus!" Branwen said urgently, and then he saw Lupin's face, also filled with worry, and felt a wand being pressed into his hand. "Hurry, Severus! I don't want to lose anymore of my students!" Blackmore cried, and he realized that she really had cared about him and the other Slytherins, that someone else besides him mourned the deaths of Rosier and Wilkes. It made him happy, but there was no time to think about that now. He raised the wand and ended the spell.

Branwen fussed over him for a minute, then declared that he would survive. She gently smoothed back his hair and kissed him on the forehead, saying, "You did well, child. I'm so proud of you. Or rather, I'm proud of the man you have become, Severus." She looked almost motherly. Or at least, she had treated him with the affection and approval he had always longed for but never received from his own parents. Who would have thought that fourteen years in the Demon Realm would make her so tenderhearted? Then Lupin was throwing himself on Snape, weeping hysterically, and Snape patted him on the back in an attempt to comfort him. He felt a little embarrassed that he had all but declared his love for Lupin in front of Potter, but felt incredibly happy nonetheless. Professor Blackmore was proud of him, Lupin loved him; all was right with the world.

Then Sirius Black was shouting in horror and outrage as he found out who had saved him; Snape was enjoying himself immensely. He was a little outraged himself, though, when Potter actually thanked him, and he growled, "I told you boy, I didn't do it for you!" Black demanded to know who he had done it for, but Snape didn't bother to reply other than to glare at him. Black was a moron if he really couldn't figure it out on his own.

Then big-mouth Potter was spilling the beans and asking in an almost angry tone why he would save Black for Lupin's sake. "I thought you hated him!"

The ungrateful little wretch; he was as stupid as his godfather. But Snape felt oddly amused, and asked Lupin, "The boy's a bit dim, isn't he?"

Lupin laughed, and so did Branwen, which triggered a temper tantrum in the boy. He half expected her to turn him into a toad on the spot, but apparently she was still feeling motherly, for she soothed him and told him that what went on between Lupin and himself was private.

"So who says Remus wants to keep it private?" Lupin asked, with a grin, stalking towards him as the wolf looked out of his eyes.

Now was a very bad time for Lupin to suddenly decide he wanted to become an alpha wolf! Snape protested frantically, trying to back away from his lover, who had apparently gone insane, but he was still weak from the spell and could barely move. Lupin caught Snape's face between his hands in an iron grip and kissed him hard. He heard Branwen laughing...and was that other sound Black retching? He struggled, clawing at Lupin's hands, trying to break free, but he was too weak...and the truth was, he didn't really want to. Lupin was kissing him hungrily, passionately, demandingly, forcing his tongue between Snape's lips, and Snape let out a little moan and found himself kissing Lupin back. Lupin was an enthusiastic lover, but he usually let Snape be the aggressor, and in a strange way it pleased him to have Lupin pounce on him like this, claiming him in front of the others and declaring to them all that Snape was his mate. Then Lupin broke off the kiss--probably because they would have fainted from lack of oxygen if it had lasted any longer, and Snape regained his sanity as he caught a glimpse of Potter's horrified face. "How--how could you?! And in front of the boy!" Snape shrieked.

"You sound like a deflowered maiden in a bad novel, Mr. Snape," Branwen said dryly, and Black laughed mockingly, which made Snape's blood boil.

Branwen was scolding Black, but Snape lost his temper and without thinking, taunted Black with, "Lupin tried to stop me, you know, Black! He would rather you die than me--" Then Lupin was screaming his name in anguish and Blackmore slapped him hard across the face. That, more than the angry lecture that followed, along with the look of betrayal on Lupin's face, was what brought Snape back to his senses. "I'm sorry, Remus," he whispered, ashamed of himself; he had acted as badly as Black, maybe even worse... Blackmore was still lecturing him about hurting someone he loved, and Snape started to protest that he didn't love Lupin, but when he saw the wounded look still in Lupin's eyes, he knew he couldn't lie, not even to protect his cover or spare his pride. Besides, by now the truth was probably quite obvious, even to Potter. All he could do was apologize.

Lupin forgave, him of course. He always did, even though Snape didn't deserve it. Then he said, "...And to be honest, I'm tired of hiding our relationship. We could have spent so much more time together this year if you hadn't been afraid of Harry and the others finding out about us." Snape felt even worse than before; he had been so busy feeling sorry for himself, been so jealous of Lupin and Black living together, that he hadn't stopped to think about how Lupin might be feeling. "Are you ashamed of me, Severus?" Lupin asked quietly. Snape made a lame protest about keeping their cover, and Lupin calmly pointed out that he was talking about letting the Order know, not the entire world. Snape said he was worried about the brats gossiping about them, but Lupin said, "I'm sure Harry can keep his own counsel."

Snape wasn't sure about that, but as usual, Lupin and Branwen overrode him, and the cat was out of the bag anyway. "I won't say anything, Professor, I promise," Potter said.

"You'd better keep this promise better than you kept the last one," Snape growled.

"He wouldn't have had to break his promise if you hadn't ended the Occlumency lessons," Lupin whispered, and Snape's mouth snapped shut. This whole disaster was as much his fault as Potter's, because if he hadn't stopped the lessons due to his feelings of shame and hurt pride, Potter might have been able to block the Dark Lord out of his mind, and he would not have been lured into Voldemort's trap. Though of course if Potter had just been sensible and stayed put...

Then Dumbledore returned, thrilled to find Black alive, of course. He praised Snape for casting the healing spell; part of Snape was pleased, but the other part was resentful that the praise came for saving Black's worthless life. Snape wondered how many people would mourn him if he died? Lupin, of course, and Branwen. Dumbledore. Dylan Rosier. Possibly Professor Kamiyama. Four people, maybe five; well, that wasn't really so bad... And then Dumbledore made Black thank him, which raised his spirits even further. He was almost in a good mood when he left the room, leaning against Lupin for support.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

They crawled out of the fireplace in Snape's personal quarters, dusting ashes off their robes. "You could stay with me here tonight," Snape said hesitantly. "If you want to." He wasn't sure, after the way he had treated Lupin tonight, that he would.

"Of course I want to," Lupin said. "I may be angry with you, Severus, but I still love you." He took pity when he saw the anxious expression on Snape's face, and caressed his cheek, where Branwen's handprint was gradually fading. "That must have hurt," he said in amusement, kissing Snape's cheek. Snape was still looking a little unsteady on his feet, so Lupin led him to the bed. Snape nearly collapsed on it, and Lupin sat down next to him. "Actually," he said, "I'm not really angry with you, Severus. Just hurt, and disappointed."

"I know," Snape said, hanging his head. "I'm sorry. I'd rather you were angry with me."

"Well, I am a little angry with you for risking your life," Lupin said. "Though of course I'm overjoyed that Sirius is all right. But you were taking a huge risk, Severus! Do you really think I'd be happy if you traded your life for Sirius's?"

"Well, I...yes," Snape admitted. "At least until you tried to stop me from casting the spell."

Lupin sighed--a very long-suffering sigh. "And then you had to rub it in Sirius's face! Why do you two have to play these stupid games?! Are you trying to drive me and Sirius apart the way Sirius tried to drive us apart in school? Is this some kind of revenge?"

"No!" exclaimed Snape, horrified. "I wasn't trying to--I just didn't think! I'm sorry, I just..."

"Just what, Severus?" Lupin asked wearily. Snape hesitated. "Just tell me the truth, Severus!" Lupin snapped impatiently.

Snape was suddenly afraid; how much could even the near-saintly Lupin put up with before he reached his limit? The fear of losing Lupin was the only thing that made him answer honestly. "I've always been jealous," he whispered, "of Black and Potter. Because they were close to you and I was not. Because you loved them. Loved them more than me."

"Oh, Severus," Lupin said sadly. "How many times must I--"

"I'm not blaming you, Lupin," Snape interrupted. "I know I treated you badly, after what happened in the Shrieking Shack. But the fact is, that you did forgive them, even Black. You went back to them, and I was left alone again. And yes, I know that's my own fault, but--"

"They were my friends, Severus," Lupin said, a pleading look in his eyes. "They'd been with me, stood by me even though I was a werewolf--"

Snape placed a gentle finger across Lupin's lips. "Shh. This is hard enough as it is, and I'll never have the courage to finish if you keep interrupting me. That is, if you really want to hear this." Lupin fell silent, and Snape continued, "Yes, I know. You had a history with them. But I didn't, and I was so jealous of that. You know, until I caught Potter looking at my thoughts in the Pensieve, I never realized that I resented you for standing by while they played their pranks on me. Well, maybe 'resent' is the wrong word...I didn't resent it at the time; I never expected you to defend me, you see. They were the golden boys, the noble Gryffindors, and I was just the slimy Slytherin." Lupin's eyes were filled with tears, but he still remained silent, as Snape had asked. "It was enough for me that you didn't take part, that you smiled at me in apology afterwards. I lived for those smiles; I actually used to provoke Potter and Black so they'd attack me, just so you would smile at me afterwards. But it hurt so much, to know that was all I would ever have, that I could never be part of your little group..."

Lupin couldn't help himself. He threw his arms around Snape and held him tightly, laying his head on Snape's shoulder as he wept, "But that's not true, Severus! I did love you, I do love you, even if I was a coward when we were children--"

"Shh," Snape whispered, stroking his hair comfortingly. How strange; usually Lupin was the one comforting him. "I know you loved me; those few weeks at school we were together were the happiest of my life, at least until we met again as teachers. And I know you love me now. But you love Black as well."

"But not--"

"Oh, I know not sexually or romantically, but you love him all the same. You always did, even after you had quarreled with him over me, even after you thought he was a murderer, didn't you?"

Lupin nodded, still weeping. "But I don't love him more than you, Severus--"

"I didn't believe that, until today," Snape admitted. "But you said you wanted the truth, Remus. And the truth is--" He took a deep breath, then forced out the words he had been too ashamed to say before. "The truth is, I don't want you to love him at all. Nor Potter junior. The truth is, I don't want you to love anyone but me." Lupin stared at him, but didn't look as surprised as Snape had thought he would. Was his selfishness so obvious? "I know it's petty and irrational and selfish, but I can't help it, Lupin. I want you to myself. I don't want to share you with anyone, especially Black."

"Severus--"

"But I don't want to lose you, either," Snape added, "so I put up with it. But I was never so happy as I was when you said today that you didn't want me to risk casting the spell, not even to save Black."

"Then why did you do it?" Lupin whispered.

"Because you care about him. Because he's your oldest friend, the only one of your group not dead or a traitor. I wanted to spare you that loss."

"You moron!" shouted Lupin. "How do you think I'd feel about YOUR loss? Do you think I'd just brush it off, say, 'Severus is dead but that's all right because I've still got Sirius'?!"

"N-no, but--" Snape stammered, taken aback by the fury of Lupin's attack.

"You weren't being noble! You were wallowing in self-pity! You thought it didn't matter if you died because you thought I loved Sirius more than you!"

Snape felt as if he'd been slapped in the face again, probably because Lupin's words were true. He felt a sudden surge of panic; was this where Lupin finally came to his senses and left him? Why on earth would anyone put up with someone as paranoid, ill-tempered, and selfish as Snape? The pride he had been so concerned about protecting earlier meant nothing to him now; he would grovel in front of Potter and Black right now if it meant Lupin wouldn't leave him. "I'm sorry, Lupin! I'm so sorry, I know I'm an idiot, but don't leave me; I'll stop fighting with Black, I swear--"

"You ARE an idiot!" screamed Lupin. "Who said anything about leaving you?!" Then he cut off Snape's frantic babbling with a fierce, possessive kiss similar to the one he had planted on Snape in the Headmaster's office earlier. Snape clung to him desperately, and Lupin didn't break off the kiss until he felt Snape begin to relax, the fear and tension draining out of him. "I told you once--I have told you many times, Severus, that I will never leave you, no matter what you do." He gave Snape a helpless look. "What do I have to do to convince you, Severus?"

"I don't know," Snape said. "I'm sorry. Blackmore's right, I don't deserve you--"

"Severus! Stop that!"

Snape gave him a slightly crooked smile. "I know, stop wallowing in self-pity. But you are the only one who has ever loved me. And I've never really been sure why you do. I know I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with...I suppose I'm afraid one day you will leave me and find someone worthy of you."

Lupin gave him an exasperated smile. "Severus, how can you be so arrogant and so insecure at the same time?" Snape stared back at him, his expression wavering between indignation and embarrassment. "Most people wouldn't consider a werewolf to be 'worthy' of anyone."

Now Snape did look indignant. "You know I don't--"

Lupin kissed him, lightly this time. "I know you think of me as a man, not a monster. That is part of why I love you. And you embrace the wolf as well as the man, and for that I love you, too. You spent years helping to develop the Wolfsbane Potion for me, without ever expecting anything in return, and for that I love you. I love you for the fact that you made it at all, after the way I hurt you when we were teenagers, and despite the fact that you had come to hate me. After the first war ended, you sacrificed your happiness to keep me safe--I still think your decision was wrong, but you did it out of love, and I love you for it. You risked your life to spy on the Death Eaters back then, and you are doing the same thing now, and for that I love you. You risked your life to help Mudbloods and Muggles--people you had been brought up to despise; most of them were strangers to you, some were people you knew and didn't like, people who had been cruel to you in school, and still you risked your life for them. I love you for that. You protect Harry even though you hate him, and hated his father, and I love you for that. You're trying to save Draco and Dylan and I love you for that as well. And yes, I love you for saving Sirius, even though I was so mad I could have killed you myself! So you see, Severus, you are quite worthy of being loved, and are as noble as any Gryffindor." Snape was staring at him, looking completely stunned, and Lupin grinned. "Sorry to ruin your reputation; I know how much you cling to that 'sneaky Slytherin' image."

"Remus..." whispered Snape.

"I love you, Severus," Lupin said, kissing his forehead, his nose, and his lips. He pushed up the sleeve of Snape's robe, and kissed the newly-formed scar on Snape's arm, then kissed the Dark Mark. "I love every part of you: the brave part and the insecure part, the compassionate part and the bitter part, and even the self-pitying part of you. I love YOU, Severus Snape. Remember that."

"I'll try, Remus," Snape said humbly.

"Oh, and what you said about not fighting with Sirius? Don't make promises you can't keep. Because you will fight with him again, and you know it. And it will probably be at least half Sirius's fault, anyway."

Snape smiled. "Yes, Remus."

"And by the way, you're wrong about me being the only one who loves you. Dumbledore has always loved you, and I think Branwen made it clear today that she does as well. She was strict with us when we were children, but now I can see that she always cared deeply about her students, especially you."

Snape looked a little stunned, and not quite convinced, but he said meekly, "Yes, Remus."

"And this business about wanting me to love only you?" Snape started to speak, but this time it was Lupin's turn to lay a finger across his lips. "You do know I can't do that," he said softly, and Snape nodded. "And think about it, Severus, you wouldn't really want me to." Snape looked confused. "Would you still love me, if I were the kind of person who could simply cast aside my oldest and dearest friends, who could abandon the son of my late best friend? Wouldn't you be afraid that I would one day cast you aside, too?"

"Probably," Snape admitted, looking chagrined. "But..."

"But?" Lupin asked.

Snape hesitated. Well, he had already exposed nearly all his secrets and selfish, petty thoughts and Lupin still loved him, so he might as well go ahead and say it. "I know you love Black and Potter, but...can I be first in your heart?" he asked in a tremulous whisper.

Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School, former Death Eater and current spy, was staring at Lupin with all his masks stripped away, his face completely open and vulnerable for once. His eyes were filled with fear, hope, and shame, and he looked like a frightened little boy. "Oh, Severus," Lupin whispered. What had his parents done to him, what had the students at Hogwarts done to him, to make him so fearful and certain that no one would ever really love him? And why had Lupin not tried harder to befriend him and protect him at school? He should have defied his friends for Severus, he shouldn't have given up after Severus had rejected him. He should have kept reaching out to Severus, should have kept offering him his love, even if it cost him his other friends, even if it made him the laughing stock of the school. He couldn't make up for those lost years, but there was one thing he could do now. "Yes, Severus," Lupin said tenderly, wrapping his arms around his lover and pulling him close. "You can be first in my heart, always."

Snape laid his head against Lupin's chest and sobbed, with long-held sorrow and new, incredulous joy. Lupin lay back on the bed, pulling Snape down beside him, stroking his hair and his back, kissing away the tears on his face, saying over and over, "I love you, Severus. I will always love you. You are first in my heart." Lupin was not just saying the words to comfort Snape; he was not the type of man who was capable of that kind of deception, even for a good reason. When he made the decision to tell Severus what he needed to hear, he resolved to stand by those words. He would put Severus first from now on; he still loved Sirius as much as he ever did, but Severus needed him more. That would undoubtedly cause problems in the future, but Lupin would deal with them as they arose. Then Lupin silently, sadly, laughed at himself. Who was he fooling? He had already made the decision earlier in the Headmaster's office, when he had tried to stop Severus from healing Sirius.

Snape wept, allowing himself to be comforted by his lover. He knew the fear and self-loathing he carried inside him ran too deep to be healed in a single day, and the time would come when he would doubt Lupin and try his lover's patience once more, but for now, right at this moment, he believed Lupin. And eventually he stopped weeping, soothed by the gentle touch of his lover's hands and the sound of his voice, and Snape fell asleep in Lupin's arms, for this one moment feeling secure and cherished, knowing that Lupin loved him, knowing that he was finally first in his beloved's heart, as Lupin had always been first in his.

THE END.

Phoenix Rising

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