“Professor?” Harry knocked politely on Snape’s office door and waited. And waited and waited. “Professor Snape?” he snapped, knocking louder after another couple of minutes, irritated about being left waiting alone in Slytherin territory. Plus, there was the added difficulty that the longer he stayed in the open, the more likely it was for Ron, Hermione, or Neville to come searching for him and he didn’t want to talk to his friends just yet, especially after Susan’s revelation.

He needed time to sort things out in his head, maybe even talk to Snape, but mostly he just wanted to be left alone. It had been hard enough to slip away from them all – and Hermione’s admonishments about him missing class – again after dinner.

He knew he was retreating but at the moment he didn’t care. He needed to think.

“Snape!” he hissed in irritation as he glanced up and down the empty corridor. For pity’s sake! Reaching his hand out, he closed it around the door handle – planning to give it a good rattle – and was completely shocked when the door opened smoothly before him.

“Huh,” he muttered, eyeing the door curiously. “That was easy. Do you think it’s because I’m Snape’s son that it did that, Sha–”

Shut UP! his mind hissed and he cursed himself for his slip, especially as he’d vowed that very afternoon to forget all about him.

Salem twisted tighter around his wrist in comfort before settling back down for another doze as Harry entered the office and closed the door tight behind him, listening to the lock click.

Right, now where was that stone I’m supposed to press again? Somewhere behind the desk, I think. I hope Snape won’t be angry with me for barging in like this.

After a few moments of searching, Harry found the stone and watched with half-interest as the entrance appeared. Luckily, no angry Snape appeared so he walked forward into the man’s empty rooms – the entrance closing over behind him and candles flaring to life all around him – and trying to fight down the impression that he was trespassing, which was simply ridiculous.

His eyes fell on a piece of parchment sitting on the table in front of him. To his great surprise, it was addressed to him... Harry read the note, feeling bewildered. Snape had let him know where he had gone? What did that mean?

“’Your supplies are on the desk’. Well, that’s clear enough,” Harry muttered derisively, trying to ignore the way Snape’s faint praise had kindled a warm feeling in his chest. “Yeah, well I want it over and done with just as much as you do, Snape.”

Still reading over the note, he dropped his bag next to the sofa and continued over to the small study Snape had shown him. He was tempted for a moment to remain in the fire-warmed sitting room, but it wasn’t really a useful place to be if you were trying to improve your handwriting. Besides, Snape was bound to come back when he was in the middle of his work and catch him at it.

As Snape had said, everything was set out ready for him to get started. Trying and failing to suppress a sigh, Harry sat down and got out his quill. He would finish this before the next Quidditch practice if it was the last thing he did.

19. My habit of recklessly rushing into situations...

Harry let the mindless work absorb him. Yes, it was boring, but he found the neater version of the letters he was writing were coming more easily to him the longer he wrote. A soft chime rang through the quarters and Harry glanced up distractedly from his fifty seventh line, only to startle to his feet when he noticed the clock across from him read nine in the evening.

Curfew!

Caught in a panic, Harry frantically cast around for a way to safely get back to the Common Room without getting caught by Filch or – God forbid – Snape.

His breath rushed out in relief as he spotted a small bowl of Floo powder on a shelf nearby. McGonagall never came into the Common Room anyway, and surely a teacher’s fireplace would have access to anywhere else in the school?

Besides, Snape hadn’t come back yet, so there was no one to catch him at it...

Making a split second decision, Harry stood and hurried over to the shelf. With one last glance around he reached out and grabbed the bowl. Or at least he tried to. Frowning with concentration, Harry reached his hand out again and passed it through the bowl of Floo powder several times.

Huh. Well that’s different.

Intrigued, and momentarily forgetting where he was, Harry pushed his hand forward. The whole shelf was an illusion! You don’t discover a hidden alcove every day, so Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward...

“Wicked!”

On second thoughts, it was rather typical of Snape to have a hidden room even in his own personal quarters. He would have loved to explore the various odds and ends scattered throughout the room, but he was already late as it was and so, spotting that the bowl of Floo powder had relocated itself to the far wall, he hurried over and snatched up a generous handful, hoping against hope that the false wall worked both ways. There was another door leading out of the room, but God knew where that led.

To his immense relief, the wall proved no more solid than the first time he had tried to step through it and he was soon back in the living room, gathering up his dropped schoolbag and stepping over to the fireplace. And hesitating.

Stealing from his father was exactly what Dudley would have done in Harry’s position if he were trying to help himself. Was it really so terrible just to wait a little while and explain his mistake to Snape instead of sneaking around in this underhanded way? And besides, just look at what had happened last time he had taken something without permission! Was he really that oblivious to the message his father’s lines were trying to get across?

Harry had just re-entered the secret room to put the Floo powder back when the fire flared green.

oooOOOooo

That arrogant imbecile! I’ll kill him for this.

It had taken the combined efforts of Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin to pull the two fighting men off each other, disappointing both of the combatants greatly. After all, they felt they’d barely even started.

After the Headmaster had finally managed to make Sirius calm down enough to stop screaming about Severus stealing ‘his’ Harry, and helped Severus off the floor – with some of the portraits complaining loudly about Black’s attitude all the while – he had handed them both some bruise salve and got straight down to business. Severus suspected it was probably the only way the old man could think of to keep them both in check when they wanted nothing more than to have a go at each other’s throats, but at least he hadn’t offered out any of those blasted sherbet lemons.

The purpose of the meeting had then rapidly become apparent, and Severus had listened in horror as the plan unfolded.

Due to the location of the Ministry, most every Wizarding family allied against the Dark Lord had fled London, leaving opportunities to monitor his followers’ actions almost non-existent. Which meant... someone from the Order had to be sent in to spy on the Dark Lord’s plans, or at least his general movements instead.

Albus had originally thought that Black would be excellent for such a mission – his Animagus form provided a superb way of concealing himself from the Death Eaters – but Severus had quickly shot that one down in flames (with Black snarling at him all the while), pointing out that surely Pettigrew would have already told all and sundry about Black’s ‘secret’. It was extremely likely there would be many traps – meant specifically for Sirius – already spread around the surrounding area, which only someone with Death Eater knowledge could undo...

Severus almost groaned out loud as he realised he’d walked right into the solution, and probably precisely why the Headmaster had invited him up for this little ‘meeting’. His sudden sourer-than-usual expression didn’t go unnoticed by Albus.

“Something the matter, Severus?”

“Haven’t you noticed how awfully convenient this is, Headmaster? The only way we will be able to gather any pertinent information is to send BOTH a known Animagus, either McGonagall or Black – and Black is the best option as he would not be obviously missed here – along with someone who is familiar with Death Eater customs.”

Snape indicated himself with a flick of his wrist, ignoring Black’s derisive snort. “The Dark Lord often has plans within plans. One of the added bonuses to winning the Ministry means that he will be able to lure in certain people he views as threats and have them dispatched quickly and quietly. Myself, Black, McGonagall–”

He was interrupted from counting off the various people at risk on his fingers by Black. “Oh, please! You’re so paranoid, Snape, you see conspiracy theories around every corner! Not everything is about you–”

Severus leant forward in his chair suddenly, his features twisted into an unpleasant and indefinable expression. “As opposed to charging in without a plan, and hoping I can get away with it, I prefer to...”

“Listen here, you–”

“Gentlemen,” Dumbledore articulated, his blue eyes flinty, “enough. We have more than enough to concern ourselves with without bringing petty rivalries into it. And, yes, Severus has guessed my plan correctly. We cannot send Minerva as her absence would be very noticeable...”

“And what about my absence, Headmaster? I can assure you it would be most noticeable!”

“Severus, I was just coming to that. Now, I am sure that you are already aware those with Death Eater parents already know of your changed allegiance. They might even be expecting a change in your personality...”

“You’re suggesting that someone should Polyjuice into me while I’m gone, aren’t you?” Severus snapped angrily, watching as the situation slowly slipped from his control. “With all due respect, Headmaster, this plan of yours insane!”

“And yet it is the only one viable to use at the moment,” Albus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking as if he had a headache developing.

Black noticed too. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Snape, I’m not exactly thrilled about going on this little package holiday with you either, but you aren’t seeing me complaining.”

“Shut. Up. Black,” Severus hissed through gritted teeth, shooting daggers with his eyes. “Now is not the time for your petty game of one upmanship.”

“Oh, and now is the time for you to suddenly become the mature one? What, has playing ‘Daddy’ suddenly, magically, made you less of a git?”

“Sirius, shut up!” Lupin bit out, looking as impatient as Albus was. Severus was almost disappointed that Black obeyed – he’d been looking forward to putting that mutt in his place. As it was, he leaned back in his chair and silently regarded the others through narrowed eyes. Better to let them think he had superior control to Black than to reveal he would really prefer to be spitting tacks at everyone in sight.

“Yes, indeed. Tea, anyone?” Albus asked wearily, conjuring a teapot and four cups, and looking so tired that Severus almost felt guilty for being so disagreeable. Almost.

Once everyone had tea, regardless of whether they wanted it or not, Albus continued the meeting. “Now, Remus here has considerable knowledge of how the Hogwarts faculty conducts business – he would be the sensible choice to Polyjuice into you while you are away – and he came second to you in Potions when you were both in school, Severus. Your Potions class would be in safe hands.”

“Oh, and what happens when their Potions Professor starts disappearing during the full moons? Most of the students in this school already know what signs indicate when one of their teachers has Lycanthropy! They would catch on after hardly any time at all. Especially” – his lips curled into a sneer – “the Slytherins.”

Black muttered something that sounded like, “They would!” but Albus continued before Severus could call him on it.

“We shall just have to make sure your missions do not take over a full month. The end of September or early October would be the best time to start your first scouting of the area, taking three, perhaps four, days.”

“And what about my Slytherins? My SON?” Severus muttered, feeling particularly petulant as he knew he had already lost.

“Your son? YOUR son?” Sirius Black had apparently had enough of keeping his peace, and had risen to his feet, eyes blazing in fury. “You mean JAMES’ son, whom you stole from him! Apparently mocking and ridiculing him for three, full years wasn’t enough! No, you had to poison his mind into believing that you – you of all people! – were his father–”

“Sirius!” Lupin’s shocked voice cut through his tirade. “Severus would never do something like that, no matter how great his resentment. Besides, Professor Dumbledore here gave his word that this unlikely tale is indeed the truth.”

“Oh?” Black snapped, whirling on Lupin instead. “And we’re to believe this simply because Dumbledore–”

“Enough!” Dumbledore’s voice was more forceful this time, and Severus leaned back to enjoy the little show that Black seemed determined to play before him. “May I remind you that we are at war? Innocent people are losing their lives every moment we delay! Voldemort” – the others flinched – “may now be redirecting his attentions to securing his new stronghold, but all too soon his attentions will return to us – the resistance – and Hogwarts and her children will be in danger once more. Now is definitely not the time to wallow in childish grudges. Sirius, I am surprised at you!”

Dumbledore broke off – no doubt to give Black a disapproving look – but Black was being inflexible.

“Childish grudges?” the man sputtered, before recovering. “Snivellus,” he roared, pointing an accusing finger in Severus’ direction, “has stolen my godson and I’m supposed to roll over and play ‘Good Dog’ about it?”

Albus sighed distractedly and brought his fingers up to massage at his temples. “Certainly not. I understand these recent events have caused you a great deal of distress, and your discovery of them tonight was definitely less than ideal. However” – he raised his head – “I implore you to put this aside for the mean time. Now is a time to band together, not to pick fights with each other. Voldemort will be searching for the tiniest weakness to break us, and we cannot allow him the chance!”

Albus paused again, but this time Black remained silent, clenching and unclenching his jaw in some unnameable emotion. Severus hid a smirk of unrestrained glee as he fully realised that as the child’s legal parent, he could refuse Black the privilege of seeing Harry ever again. And wouldn’t that be sweet justice?

Deciding that the silence had gone on long enough and that he would not be interrupted again, the Headmaster continued, “I understand that some form of resolution needs to be found between the two of you, and that this will be tremendously difficult to achieve, but I need you and Severus to gather as much information as you can after Remus here has recovered from the coming full moon. I would ask Minerva instead if I believed there might even be the slimmest chance of getting away with it, but I do not believe that to be the case. You two are our best hope. Can you do this for me, Sirius?”

Black stood, breathing heavily with a vein pulsing quickly in his throat for so long that Severus could almost believe he was frozen. Therefore, it came as a shock when he finally spoke.

“Fine.” The word was spoken as if it was wrenched from him. “For now. And only if he” – he jerked his head at Severus – “lets me have unrestricted access to my godson.”

The focus of the room shifted away from Black and Severus suddenly found himself the one everyone who was staring at. For one golden, tempting moment, he almost refused this twisted olive branch Black had extended to him for the sheer, smug pleasure of being able to show the mutt how helpless he really was now in regards to Harry... but only for a moment.

For a start, Albus would be extremely disappointed in him. Especially after all the hard work he had put into his honeyed words to sway Black into agreeing. Severus felt a pang of resentment towards the old man, thinking how unfair it was that Black deserved to be on the receiving end of Albus’ silver tongue whereas he, Severus, was simply expected to do as he was told with no questions asked.

But it was true. Severus owed Albus dearly for accepting him back to the Light when he knew damn well that no one else would have done the same – though the old man would never do something so callous as to use this fact against him – and it weighed heavily on his conscience. Besides, Albus had been a good friend during the years following that night, and that alone would have been enough to sway Severus into accepting the offer.

However, there was a new factor in play now. Harry. And as much as Severus loathed Black, he had to admit that Harry adored him – for Merlin’s sake, he’d had a demonstration of just that in his own home, that very summer! And hadn’t he promised only last night to be a better father to Harry?

“Very well. As long as Harry wishes to see you, Black, you are... welcome,” Severus twisted the word, so it sounded just like the opposite, “to visit him.”

Black’s face twisted in fierce triumph, looking so much like the night he had got away with sending Severus to the Shrieking Shack, that Severus felt a fresh wave of hate crash over him.

“Excellent,” Albus concluded. “Now that we have that settled, I daresay you would all like to head back to your various abodes. Sirius, Remus, thank you for your cooperation. I shall contact the Order with what we have planned. Severus, a moment, if you will?”

Severus settled back in his chair and watched with masked disgust as the other two left via the Portkey Albus provided – Black transforming back into the bear-like dog just beforehand.

A quiet stillness descended in the office, and instead of finding it oppressive, Severus found it restful after the earlier high emotions and nasty, unexpected surprise of seeing his hated rivals twice in so many months.

Apparently Albus felt the same, for it was a long time before he broke the silence. Even then, all he said was, “So, what did you think?”

“What did I think?” Severus mused, allowing a dangerous undertone to enter into his tone as he ran the tip of his finger around the edge of the teacup. “I think that you are a manipulative, old sod, Albus.”

Albus’ face lightened in relief as he heard the familiar, teasing epithet. “Ah, as you have said many times before, Severus,” he chuckled, waving his wand to refill their cups.

Severus raised his hands to heaven. “Well, what else am I supposed to say?” he asked, dropping the dangerous tone and allowing his exasperation to leak through. “You have just spent the better part of the past half hour talking a man down – who appeared near homicidal at the beginning, I might add – into accepting the pitiful offer of doing what you say, merely so that he gets to see his godson whenever it takes his fancy to drop in!”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “And can you honestly say you would not have done the same if he had been the one with the potential to keep Harry from you?”

Severus was brought up short by that, and for a time he could only glare at his cup in silence. However, he rallied quickly. “You expect me to go on a mission with Sirius Ruddy Black, upon which there will be many dangerous situations where he can off me and make it look like an accident! Give me one good reason why I should agree to this.”

Albus regarded him solemnly over his spectacles. “That, I am afraid, is entirely up to you. You have just as much power to refuse this mission as Sirius did – and let me assure you that if he had disagreed after knowing all of the facts, I would have found a different way to do what the Order needs.”

Severus resisted the urge to put his head into his hands. He knew very well that he would accept – for the same reasons he had turned spy for Albus all those years ago – because of Albus, because of Lily, to prove himself, to do something worthwhile... the list went on, but Severus had decided that long ago it didn’t matter why he did something as long as he followed through...

Which, ironically, was the reason he had joined the Dark Lord in the first place – and the reason he had left.

“Very well, Albus,” he muttered, weary at the idea of willingly heading into the jaws of whatever trap the Dark Lord was sure to have devised. “I shall go. But do not expect this mission to have much success. It is likely that the wards the Dark Lord has no doubt placed around his fortress will scream a warning the second I get close. Especially now I no longer have this...”

A twinge of excited anticipation twisted through his stomach as he rolled up his left sleeve, almost shivering as he revealed what he had been meaning to reveal for weeks now.

“My goodness!” Albus gasped, leaning forward over his desk to take a closer look at Severus’ bare forearm. Eyes twinkling, he raised his eyes to Severus’ once more and asked, a slight inflection of awe creeping into his voice, “And how did this momentous happening occur?”

Taking a breath, Severus related in terse sentences what had happened to call forth the remainder of Lily’s magic she had imbued in his skin with her final touch. To his surprise, instead of being overjoyed, Albus’ frown deepened with every word Severus spoke.

“Severus, may I have a look, dear boy?” Albus finally asked, concern colouring his voice.

Confused, Severus nodded and obliging held out his arm while the Headmaster hurried around his desk. There was silence for a few moments, broken only by Albus’ soft murmuring and the whir of the peculiar instruments dotted around it. Fawkes sat and watched the proceedings with a solemnity that Severus was sure was out of place.

Eventually Albus leaned back and sighed through his nose, looking as though something had disappointed him greatly. Without even knowing why, Severus gut clenched.

“Albus?” Even his voice sounded a little uncertain.

Albus looked up and gazed at him with regret. “Severus – my dear Severus – I am so sorry.”

“Don’t say that.” Severus stood up out of his chair and started pacing back and forth, a terrible suspicion beginning to form in his mind. “Don’t say that – you have nothing to be sorry for. Hear me? Nothing.” His tone was firm for the most part, but Severus cursed himself for letting the slight note of pleading for creeping into his words.

“Severus.” Albus stepped back and sat down behind the desk again, recognising his need for space. “I... am afraid that while the Mark is indeed inactive... not even Lily’s magic had the power to remove it completely...”

“Enough!” Severus sneered as his worst fear was confirmed. The Dark Mark hadn’t gone. It was... It was... “I have heard enough. It appears that not even the sacrifices I have made in my life are enough to ever cleanse my soul! I have known this for a long time, why should I expect it to be any different in this matter?” A note of bitterness had crept into his tone and he made no effort to suppress it.

Albus peered at Severus over his half moon spectacles, supposedly contemplating something. “Because without hope, humans – even wizard kind – are not worth much.”

“Spare me the proverbs, old man,” Severus snapped, feeling very weary all of a sudden. “So, you are saying that Lily’s magic did not indeed remove the Dark Mark – as I had hoped,” an extra sneer was devoted to the word, “but instead, it was only concealed it from sight.” Severus turned away, unable to bear the pity in Albus’ eyes.

“I am afraid so, dear boy. Though her magic was great enough to break the connection, the actual symbol represents a magic older than Lily’s purity of intent could affect. The Mark itself will disappear the instant the Dark Lord is defeated and not a moment before–”

“Yes, yes” – Severus cut the end of Albus’ sentence off with a sharp chopping motion – “at which point I will most likely already be dead, and all my hopes for redemption along with me.”

For the first time since the truth about the Mark had been revealed, Albus’ eyes started to twinkle a little. “Ah, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, my boy. After all, you have a son to look after and worry about now. A son, Severus. It is amazing how knowledge of someone waiting for us to come back to them can increase survival instincts. And, besides, you very well know about what my views about your redemption are, don’t you?”

“That I have redeemed myself already by risking my life for valuable information,” Severus grumbled, sinking back down into his chair again. “And yet, I still was unable to save Lily, regardless of whatever actions I took. As far as I can tell, my soul is accurately reflected by this.” Severus indicated his supposedly smooth forearm morosely. “At first glance it appears clean, but underneath the veneer there is a canker rotting away his core.”

“Really now, Severus. There’s no need to get poetic about it all.”

Severus flushed and ducked his head, a furious scowl twisting his features as Albus gave him a gentle smile along with the teasing.

“I am sure that Harry would agree with me if he knew the same things that I know about you...”

Severus head shot up and he glared. “You will not be telling Harry about my past!”

Albus waved a negligent hand. “Of course not. That is for you two to sort out, though I would advise you to tell him of your own volition. We are at war now, and war has a nasty habit of unearthing decade-old secrets.”

Severus paled, but managed a jerky nod. How will I ever tell Harry about this? How can I let him know when there is no doubt that he would hate me for it – possibly even more so than he did before this whole business?

“And speaking of Harry, Severus?”

“Yes?” Severus asked dully, feeling a lead weight settle in his stomach at the reality of his situation, his mistakes, and how his life had led to this point –him lying to his son by staying silent about his past, and his left arm being sullied by an evil symbol only hidden from sight by a simple concealing charm.

“Did you hear what I said, dear boy?”

Severus blinked. “I beg your pardon, I did not.”

“Not to worry. You’ve had a busy day, and an evening full of less-than pleasant revelations. All I said was that you should let Harry know about where you are going at the end of September, and who is going to be taking your place. It would be for the best, as long as you let him know it must be a complete secret from even his closest friends. Too much depends on your mission being successful.”

“As successful as it can be when my scouting partner is Sirius Ruddy Black.”

Albus’ lips twitched. “Quite.”

“But why bother telling him at all?” Severus rubbed his face tiredly. “If this mission must be kept so secret, why endanger it by telling it to a fourteen year old?”

Albus smiled, his eyes lighting up as he said, “Because Harry needs to know that he can trust you. He is probably still very uncertain at this point, but once he does trust, that trust is very difficult to break. I have a feeling that you will need him as much as he will need you in the coming years.”

“Indeed.” Severus flushed and looked down again; discomforted by the personal turn the discussion had taken.

Albus abruptly stood and clapped his hands together quietly, causing Severus to jump, realising that he had almost been half-dozing.

“I believe it is time for you to return to your quarters. I have taken up enough of your evening with serious talk, and I daresay you could do with spending some time for relaxation now. Be sure to give Harry my regards, won’t you?”

Severus stopped halfway to the fireplace and turned back. “It’s past curfew, old man. Harry knows better than to stay out of Gryffindor Tower without my express permission.”

Albus chuckled. “As you say, dear boy. As you say.”

Severus didn’t have time to ponder that statement before the dizzying flames whirled him away.