“Take him,” he'd said, handing the sleeping cat to Dumbledore.

But Shadow held fast to him in his sleep and he had to gently remove each claw from the cloth one by one… after which, the cat seemed vaguely aware that something was happening, and tensed his entire body, as he felt himself being handed from one person to another.

Snape gave up. Taking the cat back, he'd murmured a few calming words and put the cat on the armchair, regretting that he did not have the jumper. The exhausted cat soon fell back to sleep.

Dumbledore had an odd look on his face, half-hurt, half-moved, and did not try to pick him up again.

“Be careful, Severus.”

“You should not stay here alone with Potter. Call one of the Order, Moody or Kingsley for a start,” he'd replied, slightly nervous now the moment had arrived.

Dumbledore had nodded, but shot him a trusting look, as he did sometimes and which never failed to both exasperate and comfort him. Actually, these looks and the few words that accompanied them were the only recognition he aspired to at present… The only reward even.

But when would the old man stop being so desperately naive and sure of himself ?

“I trust you, my boy.”

Severus himself didn’t really share his confidence, but had neither the will nor the time to discuss it.

Grabbing his bag of potions, he threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and refused to think about how little the satchel weighed….

“Malfoy Manor.”

The atmosphere at the manor was markedly different from his last visits.

The faces he passed on his way were closed, piercing him with curiosity, and excitement had replaced nervousness.

Actually, the atmosphere at the manor was electrified and seemed to grow moreso the closer he got to the Dark Lord.

He felt a familiar calm come over him. He had been in this position before and had survived. He would face him as always, with his head held high and all his mental barriers raised. No matter what happened.

Coming to a stop in front of the Master of the Death Eaters, he bowed deeply. The first few minutes would quickly reveal for him the tone of the meeting…

“Severus…” hissed the Dark Lord’s voice.

“My Lord…” murmured Snape.

The dead-yet-alive wizard observed his spy whilst drumming his fingertips on the armchair, a dangerous smile on his lips.

“I am disappointed, Severus. Your services leave something to be desired,” he drawled.

Off to a bad start, thought Snape. But then, what had he expected?

“Master, be assured I have done my best, but Dumbledore and the Order don’t trust me,” he said defensively in his humblest voice.

“Incompetence is no excuse. There are no limits to the old codger’s naivety; that he has no confidence in you only confirms my opionion. I was wrong about you...”

Snape couldn't help but trembe.

“When I generously agreed to forgive you and take you back into my service, Death Eater, it was solely due to your status and skill as a potions master and spy. It certainly wasn’t because of your wavering loyalty…” Voldemort arose and approached the spy, who fell to his knees.

“My Lord, my loyalty belongs only to you. My only ambition is to serve you to the best of my ability, but Dumbledore has become particularly distrustful since Potter’s disappearance,” he hastened to plead.

But Voldemort didn't seem to be listening.

“Your skills, then. Your intelligence. Your cunning. Your duplicity. All the qualities that make a good Slytherin…”

“Thank you, Master,” murmured the Potions master, not so stupid as to draw hope from the comment.

“The potions you have delivered to me recently, Severus, have turned out to be particularly weak. How do you explain this?” asked the Dark Lord coldly.

“I’m not exactly sure,my Lord. I thought them as strong as possible, but fatigue could have caused me to make small errors in dosage; the brewing of them is especially complex,” replied Snape.

“And I assume it is the search for young Harry that has exhausted you to such an extent...”

Snape heard sniggering behind his back. So, the Death Eaters were aware of Potter’s reappearance.

“Yes, my Lord,” the Potions Master dared to say. “It seemed to me that this mission was a priority.”

“And sufficiently demanding that it induced the most sought after Potions master in the country to produce potions of such mediocre quality?” Voldemort let out a, 'Sss, Sss', a bad omen.

“Forgive me, my Lord. I will not disappoint you again.”

Snape concentrated on strengthening all his mental barriers. The situation was critical; Voldemort could decide in an instant that he no longer needed his services and unleash an Unforgivable Curse that would render him incapable of spying... and protecting Harry.

Deliberately formulating the Dark Lord’s potions to render them as ineffective as possible had been a serious strategic error...

“Really, Severus? Well then, let’s see the new delivery,” said the wizard scathingly.

Snape froze. This was going from bad to worse.

“My Lord, I beg your forgiveness, it is inexcusable... I have not been able to prepare the potions you asked of me. However, I have been able to obtain some information about Potter, at the expense of my time.” This wasn't going to work and he knew it, but he had nothing better to offer.

“Something I don’t know, Severus? I doubt that very much. A Potions master with no potions... a spy with no information... tell me, Death Eater, why should I keep you in my service? Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”

“Potter is alive,” Snape was quick to say. “Dumbledore announced it to the Order this morning. I do not know the circumstances in which was found nor where he is at the moment, but he is apparently in a bad way. The headmaster asked me for numerous potions to get him back on his feet, but I don’t think they had the desired effect; they were probably too weak, my Lord.”

“Continue,” said the wizard dryly, his cadaver-like face fixed on Snape’s eyes, searching his face.

“Dumbledore asked me to interrogate Potter’s Muggle family, to subject them to Legilimency. I was thus able to ascertain that his uncle had beat him violently, leaving him unconscious in his bedroom the evening of his disappearance. From what I could learn, Potter must have sustained numerous injuries, as well as several fractures. He appeared very weak and despondent, even before his uncle’s punishment.

“Upon my return, Dumbledore asked me for more potions, more specific this time, in order to treat the boy. He did not know the cause of the injuries before my intervention. He refused to let me see the boy, but I know that no mediwizard was authorised to be at his bedside... From what I could see, only Dumbledore is caring for the boy and knows his hiding place. However, he asked me not to leave the house and to prepare potions there for Potter. I doubt he was there, though, the old fool Apparated each time he went to him. Only seeing my Mark, at your call, Master, was able to convince him to let me go.”

Having finished his account, he lowered his head again in a gesture of submission, awaiting the verdict. His story was credible, his defences had held, at least, he hoped they had. But he doubted it would be enough to assuage the Dark Lord’s dissatisfaction.

The heavy silence which followed his report seemed to last for hours. Then Voldemort’s voice put an end to his wait.

“ Crucio.”

As he collapsed to the floor, trying to hold back his cries of pain, Snape heard the voice calmly follow after him :

“I don’t believe you. You’re hiding something from me.”

And, as if to add weight to his words his words, Voldemort maintained the curse until the Potion’s master finally lost consciousness.

Severus pulled himself up on his elbows, all of his nerves afire. His vision was blurred and he wasn't sure he could speak, but after a few attempts, he managed to say :

“For you... my Lord....always loyal.... I swear it.... on my soul...” he gasped.

“What soul, Severus?” replied the Dark Lord softly. “I think you sold it a very long time ago...”

Snape didn't think any differently. It was an oath that meant nothing, but what else could he've sworn on? What was left? No one, nothing. Exactly what he had left to lose.

“To serve you... is my only reason for living. My life belongs to you...”

“That's a fact,” replied Voldemort. “But it’s not enough. Crucio.”

A few moments later, a black, blessed veil covered the professor’s mind as he slipped once again into unconsciousness.

“Help him! Help him, do something!” shouted the boy.

Dumbledore grabbed his shoulder in an effort to calm him.

“Harry, please, calm yourself. There is nothing we can do.”

“But he’s torturing him! Snape! He’s in a really bad way, I’ve seen it, he can’t last much longer. You’ve got to do something!” exclaimed Harry indignantly, his right hand scratching at his forehead.

Without the headmaster knowing how, the boy had finally woken up in human form, before starting to scream as a new vision hit him. Voldemort... and Severus. His heart constricted.

“Harry, Professor Snape knows what he’s doing. He went there of his own accord, fully aware of the risks,” the headmaster stated firmly. “I am sure he will return soon, in a better shape than you think. The professor has a great ability to rise above the... moodiness of his master.”

“No, you don’t understand, Voldemort thinks he’s betrayed him, he thinks that he deliberately made the potions too weak and that he isn't telling him everything he knows about me. He’s killing him!” shouted the feverish boy, still trembling from the connection that had just tied him to the Dark Lord.

“I saw it!”

Dumbledore froze painfully at his words.

Voldemort knew...Merlin protect them. And Severus was there...

“Harry, listen to me, are you sure Voldemort is convinced of Professor Snape's betrayal? Has he accused him of being a spy?”

The boy hesitated.

“No, not in so many words, he said Snape was of no use if his potions weren’t strong enough and if he had no interesting information. He asked him to give him a good reason for letting him live.”

Dumbledore sighed. It was bad, but not as bad as he’d feared. Tom Riddle was undoubtedly too arrogant to imagine for an instant that he was being double-crossed by his spy. He had accused him of incompetence and cowardice, but not yet of treason. Severus could still get away with it.

“Are you going to send someone?” asked Harry, his eyes full of hope.

“No,” replied Dumbledore calmly.

At this, Harry leapt off the chair, grabbed the first object that came to hand and threw it to break against the wall.

“You can’t leave it at that and do nothing !” he shouted. “He....he...”

“Harry,” the old wizard said gently, “you have to understand... it would be too dangerous to send reinforcements just now. Voldemort would already have killed Professor Snape if he really thought he was a spy, which he would do instantly on seeing the Order come to the rescue.”

The boy clenched his teeth, pale with rage.

“He doesn’t want to kill him like that... he wants to make him suffer, so that he’ll tell him everything he knows...”

Dumbledore nodded.

“Believe me, Harry, Voldemort would have killed him on the spot, information or no. Not only as a point of honor, but out of rage. Professor Snape is the best Occlumens I have ever met, and an excellent spy. He’ll know how to get out of this fix. Please, my boy, trust me.”

Harry searched his face for a long time and reluctantly nodded his head.

“He, you know, he…” The boy took a deep breath. “He took care of me. When I was a cat, when I didn’t know, he was amazing. It was as though nothing could happen to me while he was there… and now… this is because of me. It’ll be my fault if he dies.”

He swallowed with difficulty. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to say all that. But Dumbledore was Dumbledore, wasn’t he? He had to understand, he had to do something.

“Oh, Harry,” said the headmaster with a sigh. “I’m truly sorry. For not having been able to prevent all this, for not being able to do more right now than ask you to trust me. Believe me, Harry, when I say that Professor Snape would be mortified if he thought you believed that he'd not willingly made his decision, with full knowledge of the risks. Do not underestimate him, Harry; that would not honor him…”

Harry would've liked to explain that Snape, of all people, couldn’t die, not now, and certainly not like that. But he could find neither the strength nor the words and a moment later he ran across the room, which had suddenly become larger…

No, he had become smaller. He jumped on the table, his tail whipping in the air. In this form, he felt more alive, more agile. He leapt onto the sideboard, then to a chair, scratching the fabric with his claws as he went.

When he'd galloped round the room several times, he finally felt better. His Man in Black would come back, he had to. He trusted him. And he could, once again, snuggle up against his shoulder while the man recovered from his injuries.

For the moment, his own injuries hurt, but it was good to feel them. It made him feel closer to the professor, and in a way, it was almost a talisman, wasn’t it? Snape would have to come back to care for him.

Yes, he would come back. And he would never let him go again, if he could help it.

“I am disappointed, Severus. Extremely disappointed.”

Snape let out a sigh. Why did it have to be that his two so-called masters persisted in calling him by his first name, but with such different results?

He bent his back a little more. He no longer had the strength to talk. Two days of torture and interrogation without respite had succeeded in sapping all of his strength. It was better in any case to await the verdict, he had done his best, he had let nothing slip. He would have no regrets if it wasn’t…. no, no regrets.

“I am finally beginning to believe that you are really as stupid and inefficient as you claim to be.” The Dark Lord actually sounded disappointed. “As time passes, you seem to lack courage... How old are you, Death Eater? Thirty-seven? Aren’t you a little young to be such a coward already?”

Snape flinched. If there was one insult he could not tolerate, it was that one! But what did it matter, really? All the better if he believed that; cowardce was less dangerous than treason when faced with the Dark Lord. Wasn't Wormtail the best example of this?

“I will do better, Master... to serve you…” he managed to croak. He would have willingly given up ten years of his life for a glass of water. Though of course, it was highly unlikely that he'd manage such a bargain, in any case...

“That would be better for you, Severus. Much better. You don’t want to see this little scene repeated, do you? Or even worse, to fail me in a more permanent manner…”

Past the point of intimidation, the Potions master felt hope again.

“No, my Lord. Never.”

“You will return there. Make the potions again, good ones this time. You will get back into Dumbledore’s good graces, whatever the cost, and bring me the information I requested. Where is he hiding the child, why did I lose touch with him for several weeks. I will not accept any further failure, Severus. Is that clear?” hissed Voldemort.

“Yes, Master... thank you…” the professor murmured.

He started when he felt a hand brush through his hair in a familiar gesture. The touch was repugnant and he had to use all over his willpower not to throw it off. Now was not the time to lose his nerve.

“Yes, you may thank me. I am far too lenient with you, Severus… That’s why I’m going to keep an eye on you. A careful eye… The least misstep will be your last. You are quite aware of that, aren't you, loyal Death Eater?” the Dark Lord whispered.

At the end of his strength, Snape could only make an inarticulate sound in reply.

“It would be better for you if your loyalty is never again a subject for discussion. We will all be watchful. Our big family.”

There was some sniggering in response to this declaration. There was no doubt that most of the Death Eaters would be delighted to keep an eye on the Potions master who had long benefited from preferential treatment….

Snape finally felt the dark wizard's presence move away.

“Go home. When I call you next, Severus, your potions will be ready and you will have answers to all my questions. If that is not the case…”

Severus looked up to see the reptilian face break into a smile brimming with menace.

He felt hands lift him up and carry him towards the fireplace. Somone shouted the name of his manor for him, and a moment later he was lying on the floor of his laboratory. The tiles had never felt so comfortable…

Thank Merlin, he was finally home…the fireplace was protected, which meant no one except himself and Dumbledore could come through, and he thought the wards around the Manor were strong enough to withstand any intrusion for a long while.

He was safe.

He hadn’t leaked any information. Potter was not in danger.

He had succeeded. He had survived.

For now.

Two days. Two days since Severus had answered the Dark Lord's{del sp} call and had not returned. Two days during which Harry had been waking up periodically in human form from nightmares of torture.

The boy had lost whatever control he'd been able to have over his transformations. Dumbledore had tried to care for his wounds with the salve the Potions professor had left, but the teenager couldn't tolerate his touch, and had announced that he could care for himself. Given the number of cuts on his back, the headmaster doubted this, but did not have the courage to contradict the boy.

Who had been literally beside himself since his professor's departure.

Transforming from animal to human form generally during his sleep, he was nervous and irritable, unable to understand the Order’s lethargy. When the visions from Voldemort overcame him, he refused to hide from them by transforming : but these visions sent him into a state of rage and frustration, leading to an involuntary return to his cat form.

His rage had only been magnified tenfold and the sitting room at Grimmauld Place now looked like a vast battlefield : precious objects and paintings lay on the floor, the furniture bore signs of scratches and the tapestry hung in shreds.

On the evening of the second day, Dumbledore came to a decision. They couldn't afford to wait any longer… By all accounts, things had gone very badly at Malfoy Manor, and Severus wasn't going to be able to get out of it alone this time.

He'd got it into his head that if something permanent happened to the Potions professor, Harry would never forgive him... and he himself would find it hard to sleep well again if he committed yet another error of judgement with regard to the Potions master.

Severus had long ago atoned for his mistakes and he could not help but feel a growing sense of guilt for having him risk his life yet again.

Alastor and Kingsley took turns keeping company to ensure the safety of Grimmauld Place, while Tonks had chosen to stay at the Weasleys. If Voldemort decided to search actively for Harry, he would without a doubt start with the Burrow.

But nothing arrived to threaten the two houses and it was now time to change strategy.

“Albus, everyone’s here.”

The wizard nodded and rejoined the Order members in the lounge, leaving the cat asleep in the room that had been Sirius’s.

In the sitting room, the central core of the Order of the Phoenix was waiting for him. The atmosphere was strained, the tension around the table palpable.

“Snape’s been found out, eh?” said Moody.

Several groans sounded from around the table, and all eyes turned towards Dumbledore. Misty with guilt , he realized.

“I fear that the last Death Eater meeting indeed went badly. It would seem that Voldemort has strong suspicsions about his spy’s loyalty and at the very least, is accusing him of concealing information. Harry’s visions have allowed us to establish that he is still alive, but has been subjected to torture and is in a bad way. I have waited as long as possible, but I fear that we can no longer hope that Severus will be able to return safe and sound.”

Faces tensed with worry, but avoiding looking at each other. After having questioned the Potions master’s loyalty on so many occasions, and openly making sure that he knew this, the situation was at the least embarrassing.

“Do we know where he is?” Tonks asked softly.

“Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort has set up his headquarters.”

A group of distraught expressions answered this declaration. That didn’t help the situation.

“In order words, if we want to get Snape back, we’re going to have to get past the nutters and his little friends,” Moody summarised.

“Indeed, Voldemort is in residence there at the moment and the wards are optimal. It comes down to considering our options, but it is clear that a frontal attack would be too risky.”

“It’s not just risky, Albus, it's suicidal. We have no chance of successfully getting him out of there alive, if he even still is...” Kingsley said.

“He is,” replied a voice from the other side of the room.

Everyone jumped. Engrossed in the conversation, they hadn't noticed Harry slip discreetly through the open door.

“I saw him an hour ago. You can’t leave him there... he’s really weak and Voldemort’s not giving him any time to recover. After everything he’s done for us, you can’t just decide it’s too risky and leave him to die there! That'd mean we're no better than they are!” the boy almost shouted.

He trembled slightly, looking at the faces around the table. He could see guilt there, pity too and a dilemma.

To save Snape, risk it all out... it wasn’t just about the spy, they all knew that. It was, above all, about them and the way they wanted to conduct the war.

“Snape knew what was at stake. He sacrificed himself for us and we'll remember that, but I’m convinced he wouldn’t have wanted us to risk more lives to save him,” Moody said, staring Harry straight in the eyes.

But it wasn’t the boy who answered, it was the people around him at the table.

“It's out of the question to leave Severus there!” exclaimed Molly Weasley indignantly.

“I'll never lie down to sleep again with a clear conscience if we didn’t try to save him,” Tonks added.

“He has never hesitated to put his life on the line, and more than his life to save Harry. We owe him a debt,” interjected Arthur Weasley.

The hubbub of protests continued, finally easing the tension in the little group.

Looking up from the table, Dumbledore met Harry’s eyes, calm and confident for now. For a few short moments, they smiled at each other, and it seemed to the headmaster that in the end, hope and trust were indeed the best things he could give to the boy.

If Severus died today, Harry would be devastated. But he would continue to have faith...

“We need to think about this, Albus” said Moody, his voice rising above the others. “We can’t rush blindly in and expect to get out alive. Idea of a plan?”

Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but something caught his attention and he stood abruptly from his chair, under the questioning looks of the Order.

“Albus?”

“It would seem that, in the end, we don’t need to rush to our Potions master's rescue. The alarms have just this minute informed me that he has returned to Snape Manor.”

Cries of relief and surprise brok out, and Harry was at his side in an instant.

“Professor! We need to get there! Quickly!”

“Yes, Harry, I'm well aware of that. I'm asking all of you to remain here in my absence to watch over Harry. I will return as quickly as possible with Severus, if his condition allows,” Dumbledore said as he threw a few potions into a bag.

“Are you sure, Albus? He might not be alone!” grunted Moody.

“It will be fine, the Manor is protected against all entry by anyone except me and the owner. Harry, promise me you will stay here until I return and not attempt anything dangerous!” Dumbledore insisted, his piercing eyes searching the boy’s.

“Take me with you,” replied the boy in a voice both calm and firm, surprising the wizard.

“Impossible, my boy, Professor Snape will need taking care of and I risk not being able to look out for you both if something should...”

“Take me with you, they won’t know anything. Trust me. Please.” His pleading green eyes riveted on the headmaster’s, Harry transformed into a cat before he was able to reply.

A collective exclamation of surprise greeted this performance, but Dumbledore ignored it. He didn’t have the time to discuss any longer. The boy was right, his cat form would hide him...

The day had been truly unique, he mused. Each of them had had their say... and much had been played out as they answered each other's questions. If he had to ask the boy to trust him blindly, then he had to accord him the same consideration when circumstance demanded it. And the look on the boy's face told him that this was one of those moments.

He nodded.

“Very well.”

The voices got louder, but again, he paid them no attention.

“I would ask you nonetheless to remain here,” he said, addressing the Order members who stared at him nervously. ”It could happen that I'll have need of you quickly. As I said, I'll try to return with Severus...and Harry as quickly as I can. However, I doubt that Severus can be moved right now.”

With a nod at Harry, he went to the fireplace and announced his destination. Relieved, the cat leapt into the green flames, followed immediately by the headmaster.

Merlin, let this be the right decision, he thought as he took his place in the hearth. Because this was one of those choices that could have serious consequences.

A moment later, he almost stumbled over the body of his spy. Severus had never looked particularly healthy, no Potions master had, but his deathly pale and tortured face was positively frightening.

He quickly bent over to take the man’s pulse : his heart was beating, weakly, but it was beating. His breathing, however, was much too fragile ; he quickly grabbed a potion from his pocket and forced it between the professor’s lips. The man let out an almost inaudible groan, as the headmaster massaged his throat to aid the liquid to be swallowed.

“Severus, can you hear me?” he asked

But there was no sign that the man had heard him.

Dumbledore quickly transfigured the armchair into a bed and delicately settled the still body of the Potions master on it. He hastily scanned the laboratory and assembled a collection of vials on the table. He nodded after he'd rapidly smelt them; these were exactly the ones he needed. It would seem that the professor had anticipated that his return would be painful...

Dumbledore sighed. This foresight of Severus' hinted of something fatalistic that suddenly made him infinitely sad.

He turned back to the bed where Snape was lying and froze at the sight before him.

Harry, in cat form, had jumped on the bed and was curled up against the Potions master’s shoulder.

Severus' face still reflected his intense suffering, but his features had relaxed and his face was slightly turned towards the cat purring next to him, trying to give him all its warmth and comfort.

At that moment, Dumbledore knew that Severus was going to survive.

That they were all going to survive.