***30 November, 1986-6:37 p.m. ***

Severus descended the stairs cut directly out of the jet volcanic rock in a swirl of black that blended so well with his surroundings, at first glance his pale face could have been mistaken for a spectre. The sounds his footfalls echoed forebodingly off the black stone.

After his own two week incarceration whilst awaiting the Albus Dumbledore to speak on his behalf five years ago, Severus had never intended to set foot on the hell island again. However, only a fool counted on absolutes.

The stone staircase led from the prison proper, to the boat landing carved beneath the ancient rock, where no Dementor was allowed to enter. The dock was within a cave smoky, volcanic glass that had formed from an aeons-old lava tube that had been further eroded by the relentless wind and tides that pummelled mercilessly at the island.

Severus reached into the pocket of his travelling cloak and took out a bar of chocolate; he broke off a piece and ate it. The magical flood of warmth and optimism washed over him that always accompanied the consumption of the sweet.

Severus attempted to shrug off the lingering effects of the Dementors; their presence was still evident in the air of unadulterated misery that seemed to permeate the very rock. Still, it was infinitely better than spending anymore time in the prison than what was absolutely necessary.

Below, along with the boat docks were the offices of the human administrators of the island as well as the holding cells for those under suicide watch. Nearly everyone who had ever been imprisoned in Azkaban knew where they were located, since it was common knowledge that nearly everyone imprisoned in Azkaban had contemplated taking their own life at one time or another. It was one of the side effects of perpetual Dementor exposure.

Severus was suspicious of Musgrave's placement in the secured area. As Lucy had already mentioned, if Musgrave had been intent to harm himself, he would now be in the Mind Healers Ward at St. Mungo's. Her observation coupled with Black's suspicions, made Severus decide to take matters into his own hands. He would see personally if Musgrave was still in his cell.

"I was under the impression that bats had excellent hearing, Snape," Black had said. "Not even Dumbledore is allowed to observe Musgrave. Do you think you're going to just waltz in and have tea and crumpets with the man?"

Severus had replied darkly, "I did not say I was going to visit Musgrave. All I require is his cell number."

Ascertaining Musgrave's cell number was easy enough. Black's cell number had been three-nineteen. Thus Musgrave's was three-twenty-one. All Severus needed to do, was speak to the prisoner in cell three-twenty-two.

As he descended out of the prison, Severus reflected upon the distasteful conversation he just had, and what—if anything—he had learned from it. Distasteful was an apt description. It took all of Severus' formidable self control to keep from throwing an Unforgivable on his 'old friend' and Severus felt the need to wash his own mouth out with soap after the shite he just spewed out.

And Black...that bloody cur had some answering to do. Forget hexing the bastard's eyes out. Severus was ready to burn them out the Muggle way—with a hot poker. It was of no wonder why his eyes remained fixated on Lucy.

A scalding hot shower to wash away the filth Severus felt crawling under his skin was also in order. And much to his frustration, he was no closer to knowing the truth.

***4:54 p.m. ***

Unsurprisingly when Severus arrived at Azkaban and simply asked to see the prisoner cell three-twenty-two, he was allowed access without question. He was not concerned as to how he would get answers from a stranger. That little guarantee he had brought along with him in his left robe pocket. He did not care in the least how ethically dubious his methods were as long as he obtained his objective.

Severus ate an entire bar of chocolate before passing the Dementors that guarded the area. Once inside the cell-block Severus continued alone to his destination, marginally unaffected by the wraiths.

Severus stopped at cell three-nineteen. It was completely empty. After the investigation of Black's escape, not even the wash basin and toilet had remained on the walls. A cold chill ran down Severus' spine as he thought of an innocent man spending five interminable years in the dank eight-by-eight foot hell-hole. He had come ever so close to sharing Black's fate. However, Severus knew he himself was not innocent.

Any who thought that his betrayal of Lily had been his first and only offence would find themselves horrifyingly mistaken. After all, he had been a Death Eater for three years before it occurred to him to approach Dumbledore. Severus' hands and soul were far from clean. Despite what he had told Black, there were some things for which he could not and would not ever forgive himself. Severus would not dwell upon those mistakes, but he would give everything within himself to atone for them.

Severus was not one of the Dark Lord's foot soldiers that terrorized Muggle and wizard villages alike up and down the British country side. No—the Dark Lord did not want his young, prized potioneer to risk injury or capture. Instead, he turned Severus into a reluctant Mengele.

The potions Severus created for the Dark Lord had to be tested... and the Death Eaters provided an ample supply test subjects. The Dark Lord himself watched over Severus as he administered the potions to the hapless prisoners. The Dark Lord enjoyed watching the chilling results of Severus' labours and would often order 'improvements' to be made.

Severus had only voiced his ethical concerns about using unwilling human test subjects once—once. It was early in his service and he had recognised the girl from Hogwarts. She was the younger sister of Lily's friend, Mary MacDonald.

Severus remembered the Dark Lord's lazy incantation of 'Imperio.' He remembered waking up in the cell of his would-be test subject, naked...spent and covered in blood that was not his own.

She had been a Muggleborn girl with dark brown hair. She couldn't have been more than fifteen. She too, was nude—but she lay cold, unmoving...dead. Her body had been viciously abused...her face beaten into a bloody mass.

The memory of the deed was buried so far into Severus' mind, that he doubted if even Albus could resurrect it. He knew that he had been used as a rapist and murderer. At the time, with the knowledge of what he had done fresh on his conscience, Severus had vomited until the bile had left his stomach and continued to dry heave until he passed out.

It never occurred to him that in a very real sense, he had been raped too. He would never rationalise nor excuse the act.

It was for that very reason that Severus delved headlong into the art of Occlumency. He had read on the subject before and had realised that he had a natural talent for it. However he discovered that by mastering Occlumency, he could strengthen his will and become not only resistant to the Dark Lord's mind games, but to the Imperius Curse itself.

Severus may have sought his position as the Dark Lord's servant...but he would never again lose control over his mind and body if he could at all help it.

He knew he was trapped. He wanted out but it was too late. He had willingly given himself over as a slave to a deceptively charismatic demon lord. The only thing Severus could think to do was survive...one day at a time, until he could think of a way to wreak his revenge.

As much as Severus had wanted to do otherwise, he never sabotaged the effectiveness of one of his potions. To do so would incur the Dark Lord's wrath...again and he certainly had no desire to imic the effects of an Imperius and having to act in such a horrifying way. The Dark Lord had warned Severus that if he was not happy with his position, he could find other tasks that Severus might find more 'pleasurable.'

Severus knew that Dark Lord's idea of pleasure, and he certainly did not want to be the recipient of that particular honour.

Severus could not risk another Cassandra MacDonald. And until he had mastered Occlumency, he needed to be careful.

What Severus had managed to do—behind the Dark Lord's back—was to create antidotes for most of his potions. For far too many, such attempts were fruitless because death would be immediate. But for a few, Severus managed to go back and administer antidotes to his victims along with a rather powerful Draught of Living Death. Under the guise of ridding the bodies, Severus would administer the antidote to his Draught, Obliviate the poor souls of the memory of their captivity and torture and release them into the woods or moors on the outskirts of towns and villages to fend for themselves. They would wake up confused and their survival was not assured, but at least they were alive. Severus regretted that he did not have the courage to do more.

Severus had considered turning his wand on himself several times, but the Dark Lord would only find another potioneer...perhaps one who would have no mercy, so Severus suffered and soldiered on...performing his monstrous tasks for his master whilst at the same time trying to save what victims he could.

These were the deeds that plagued Severus for so long, even before his betrayal of Lily and her family. Only Albus was privy to the details of Severus' service to the Dark Lord. When Severus had turned spy, the Headmaster had informed him that he would be forced to continue his potions work for the Dark Lord in order to deflect suspicion. It was a bitter pill for Severus to swallow, but the Headmaster had been correct. To be effective to the Order and protect Lily, Severus had to remain effective to the Dark Lord.

When Severus was brought to Azkaban to await trial, he had neither wanted nor asked for Dumbledore's help. Black had already been 'tried' and convicted. Severus knew he would be next. Severus did not wish to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban, but he thought it was the least he deserved for his sins.

Albus' testimony was almost not enough to save Severus. Severus had been spared Azkaban by one vote. Unbeknownst to Severus, it was his own virtue, not Albus' testimony that saved him.

During the visualization of Severus' Pensieved memories, an Undersecretary recognised her five year old nephew. He had been missing after her sister's home had come under the attack of Death Eaters. Her sister and brother-in-law were killed and the worse was suspected for the boy as he had been missing for nearly two years.

When the child came to Severus...he couldn't do it. He could not bring himself to test the effects of Acromantula venom on a five-year old child. Instead, Severus slipped the child the Draught of Living Death. He thanked every benevolent god and spirit he could recall that he had not poisoned the child and explained to the Dark Lord that the boy had died before he could conduct the experiment. Severus then Apparated the boy to a small orphanage in Normandy.

Upon finding her nephew alive in France, the Undersecretary cast the deciding vote that granted Severus his freedom.

Severus was not certain he could divulge this aspect of his past to Lucy. He knew she must at least have some suspicions. She knew he was the Dark Lord's potioneer and his work was another aspect of his past he had to come to terms with when he took in Harry. Lucy knew full well that it was not beatification potions that Severus had brewed for the Dark Lord.

Severus knew the reason these dark and painful memories surfaced was the close proximity of the Dementors. He dug the bar of chocolate back out of his pocket desperately took a bite. Once the warmth began to flood over him, Severus slammed the memories of those dark times deep under his Occlumency shields where they usually resided. Otherwise, he could not deal with his guilt and unadulterated despair.

Once composed, he was again able to focus upon his task.

Severus did not need to step over to the neighbouring cell to know that it was no longer occupied. However, he did linger long enough to notice that it had received the same treatment as Black's. It was completely bare.

When Severus finally arrived at cell three-twenty-two, he fought the compulsion to cover his nose and mouth. He literally nearly fell backwards as the stench of sweat, stale urine, and faeces hit him like a Dragon's tail.

His curiosity as to what poor wretch lay within the malodorous cell did not last long—nor did his compassion once he heard the voice of the skeletal apparition that dwelled within.

"Who's there?" rasped a cautious voice. "Snape, is that you?"

The voice may have been strained from of lack of use, yet although it had been over five years since he had last heard it, Severus would recognise the voice anywhere.

"Anthony," Severus answered simply, as if he had expected to find his old school-mate and fellow Death Eater, Anthony Mulciber, rotting away in the cell.

Mucliber ran forward and grabbed his prison bars. Severus' first instinct had been to jump back, however his composure never broke and he stood his ground. Mulciber's brown eyes looked almost as black as Severus' as his pupils were nearly fully dilated from trying to pull in what mean light existed. Mucliber grounded out, "I've heard some strange tales about you Severus. Some very strange tales, indeed. Is it true, Severus? Are you raising the Potter boy to be the next Dark Lord? "

Severus' first instinct was to relieve Mulciber of his front teeth. He had obviously overheard many of the conversations that had taken place between Black and Musgrave. However, if Severus was going to have any chance of obtaining any information regarding Musgrave, he would have to play along. It was an occupational hazard of spying—suffering through distasteful...and sometimes despicable acts as if you were made of stone. Unfortunately, it was a necessary evil that must be done in the name of the greater good.

Severus kept his answers ambiguous, implying that he had secret intentions but never giving any details. If he had told an elaborate fiction to Mulciber of how he was raising the vanquisher of the most powerful wizard ever known to be a dark wizard in his own right, he would be exposing himself before he had the power to make a play...a move that would only make him out as a braggart and not a calculating manipulator. By insinuating that he had gone against Dumbledore and had managed by his own manipulations to gain power over the child that defeated the Dark Lord, Mulciber would perceive Severus as a cunning and powerful visionary, worthy of respect.

Mucliber rasped out a dark laugh. "I'm no idiot, Severus. The only way you could insure that would be if you had blood ties to boy. I always knew you still carried a torch for that ginger Mudblood. What happened? Did you impress her with your 'masculine charm' and finally manage to make a cuckold out of Potter?"

"If I had, do you think for a moment I would divulge the sordid details to you?"

"Not at all. You were never one to share your chits, Severus. But I'm not at all surprised to find out the Potter whelp is your bastard. You once said you'd get that Mudblood back. Bet Potter is rolling right now." There was a dirty gleam in Mulciber's eyes. He would be fantasising about those 'sordid details' tonight.

"Why aren't you here with us, Severus? You didn't plead Imperiuslike Malfoy, did you? Ruddy coward...I wish I would have thought about it myself." Mulciber's chest convulsed with his cackle as he laughed at his own hypocrisy.

Severus turned sideways and took a silver flask out of the upper left pocket of his cloak. His intention was to give Mulciber the impression that he was trying to hide something, whilst at the same time allowing the Death Eater to see exactly what he was doing.

Severus easily lied, "Nothing quite so elaborate, I am afraid. A simple lack of evidence and an overly mawkish headmaster who did not wish to see the 'wrongly accused' imprisoned." Severus unscrewed the top of the flask and said as he put it to his lips, "And I would see myself damned to Hell before I professed undying loyalty to a 'Dark Lord' who was bested by an infant."

As Severus placed the flask to his lips, Mulciber's eyes grew wide with curiosity and he licked his lips with a feral desperation. The Death Eater had forgotten his former line of questioning. "What do you have there, Severus? Why don't you share with an old friend? "

Severus had made rather convincing display of a man making a difficult decision. He 'grudgingly' passed the flask to Mulciber. "Here," Severus said smoothly. "It's chocolate with a bit of...something special."

"Ahhh, you always were one of the good ones, Severus," Mucliber said appreciatively as he gratefully took the offered flask. He took a hard swig from the flask, and Severus noticed the quick constriction then dilatation of Mulciber's pupils. The Veritasirum was taking affect. "Rum...that's mighty thoughtful of you." Mulciber had noticed the spice of Jamaican Rum Severus had added. The drinker would feel the immediate effect of the rum over that of truth potion.

The combination of chocolate and alcohol was having its effect. A placid look grew across Mulciber's face as his back slid down the stone wall and he sat on the floor. Severus found Mulciber's waxy pallor and yellow, toothy grin disturbing. But the effect of the chocolate, rum, and the potion would not last forever and the time for small talk was over.

Without further delay, Severus went into his questioning. "I have actually come to see the gentleman across the corridor. Any ideas as to why he is no longer there?"

Mulciber kept his back against the hard stone. He turned his eyes up to Severus and calmly said, "From what I heard, you finally lost your affinity for red-heads. If you're here to rub salt in the chap's wounds, you're too late. Poor bastard killed himself weeks ago."

This, Severus did not expect to hear. "Are you certain? Did you see the body?"

"Didn't need to. When the lights went dark the night after Black escaped, the sod cried like a baby for hours...swearing his vengeance on you and his woman. All the while, he was ripping at something. I heard some movement and then he was suddenly silent. I couldn't see anything." Of course Mulciber would be blind to what was happening in other cells. The cells were spelled so those on the inside could not see others on the inside, thus isolating the prisoners further. "I figure that was when he did it. When the prison went black. That sort of thing happens around here all the time. Once he was quiet, I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning with the guards searching his cell. They must have already removed the body, but one of them was holding the noose that he made from the mattress cording."

Severus took the information in. It was sketchy at best. Why would the Ministry not tell Lucy that Musgrave had killed himself? Who had claimed the body? The prison administration would answer none of these questions for Severus. It was doubtful that they would give Lucy an honest answer.

He would have to follow through with Black's plan. If nothing came of it, they would have to assume that Musgrave was dead. However, there was something he needed to be certain of before he left. "Did you overhear Black and Musgrave talk about Animagus transformation? If so, have you used it to your advantage?" There was no point in asking him if he ever saw Musgrave transform since he could not see into the cell.

Mulciber frowned in disappointment. "Oh yes, I overheard them. But there's nothing I can do about it. My magic is too far gone for something that advanced...trust me...I tried."

"Do you know how Sirius Black escaped?"

"No," Mulciber answered with a shake of his head and a happy smile. "I missed that bit of excitement for a bit of my own. I had a two day conjugal visit with my wife. The first one since I've been here. I didn't return to my cell until the morning after he escaped."

Severus mused, "So you weren't here when Lucius came for his little visit."

"Lucius soiled himself by coming here? I wish I would have been here. I would have thrown a great turd at him. He was my Secret Keeper. Son of a bitch gave away my hide-out."

That little bit of information confirmed a suspicion of Severus'. Malfoy bought his way out of Azkaban. There was no way he could have been under an Imperius and remember that he was a Secret Keeper. After the Dark lord's downfall, Lucius had not been questioned for weeks and Anthony was arrested soon after. Whilst one would remember waking from the curse, memories of what one did whilst under the curse vanished after only a few hours. The Ministry would have been wise to this.

Severus casually took his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. "As much as I would love to stay and chit-chat with you, Anthony, I really must leave."

Mulciber bolted up from the floor and grabbed the prison bars. His face was pressed into the gaps. "Don't leave just yet, Severus," he said desperately. "You know...you haven't told me about your latest conquest. Is she really all Musgrave claims she is? He thought her fanny was platinum the way he went on about fu…"

The sound of skull clashing against metal echoed off the prison walls.

Severus had reached beyond the bars, grabbed Mulciber by the collar, and smashed his head into the unforgiving iron.

Mulciber was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, but Severus did not let go. He was seething.
Severus growled, "You have your conjugal visits. Find release in your own wife, for you can't soil mine with your perverted fantasies."

Severus threw Mulciber back into the darkness of his cell. He stormed out of the block, looking very much as if his very presence would give a Dementor pause.

Severus swept into the Administration offices that were hewn into the obsidian rock wall. His anger was lingering close to the surface.

The interior offices were a stark contrast to the outside. The walls were a harsh white. The intention was to counteract the overall gloom and darkness around the prison. In actuality, the colour choice was just as mundane and almost as depressing as perpetual blackness.

The attendant sat behind the tall counter with his pointed nose buried in the latest edition of the Prophet. He looked as though he should have retired over a decade ago. The old man never bothered to look up as Severus approached. He simply took one hand and plunged it into an unseen drawer and unceremoniously smacked Severus wand against the hard countertop.

"Your wand, sir," said the thin, dull voice. The guard then arose and turned to go refill his mug of hot chocolate.

Severus wordlessly reached out for his wand then briefly hesitated as the old guard swore under his breath. "Damn it all to hell. If I find out who's been dipping into my bloody chocolate ration again, I'll..."

Severus pocketed his wand and cursed himself for not thinking of the obvious sooner.

"Pardon me, si..."

"What the bloody hell do you want?" the guard snapped.

"Information," Severus said smoothly as he removed the last two bars of Swiss chocolate from his pocket along with his silver flask. "I assure you, you will find what's inside extremely...satisfying," he smirked as he placed the chocolate bars and flask atop the counter.

The old man looked at the chocolate like a cat ready to pounce on a rat. "Wha...What information might you be after, son?" It was amazing how something as innocuous as chocolate could alter tone of a conversation.

Severus picked up the flask from the table and handed it to the old guard. "You may wish to ascertain if it is worth your while."

The old man eyed the flask, then Severus with suspicion. Severus simply nodded his encouragement to the guard.

His need to relieve the despair overcame his sense of caution and the old man drank deeply. The relief washed over his wrinkled face. "I've known men to kill for stuff like this here," he practically sighed.

"What do you want to know?"

Severus had a feeling he would have managed the truth out of the man without the aid of Veritasirum. It was clear that the human workers on the island were not above taking bribes. "Prisoner three-twenty-one? Is he down here in isolation?"

The guard contemplated, "Twenty-one...twenty-one...That would have been Musgrave, I think. On Black's cell block, if I'm not mistaken."

Severus was impressed with the old man's recall. But then again, every guard would have been familiar with Black's cell number. It was entirely plausible they would be familiar with his neighbours as well.

"Yes, Kenneth Musgrave. Is he here?"

The guard finished off the hot chocolate and attempted to give the flask back to Severus. Severus indicated with a wave of his hand for the guard to keep it and the old man gave him a toothless grin of appreciation as he put his new treasure in the pocket of his baggy work-issued trousers.

"Musgrave's gone, son." The wizened guard said matter-of-factually. "He escaped the night after Sirius Black."

***1 December, 1986 -3:35 a.m. ***

Severus made his way back up to the castle with beetled brown and barely contained fury from the Apparition point. Thankfully, although the sky threatened, it had not yet begun to snow.

The night had ended in near disaster thanks to Black. Severus blamed his decision to believe Black's plan would actually yield a favourable result, on temporary insanity.

Lucy did not want him to go, but Severus and his bloody male pride chose not to listen.

Severus placed his hands on her slim shoulders leaned over and gave Lucy a small kiss. "I simply cannot rest until I have exhausted all possibilities."

"I refuse to live my life in fear because Kenneth may or may not be out there, Severus." Lucy had her concerns, but he had remained adamant on his decision. "He escaped a month ago. If he was going to come after me, I'm sure he would have done so by now. You've already endured Azkaban for me today and you have classes in the morning. You don't need to do this tonight."

"Yes I do, Lucy. If he's alive, this could be our only chance to capture him."

Severus simply could not verbalise his own fears. This was personal and Severus was perfectly capable of taking care of Musgrave one his own. He just needed to find the son-of -a-bitch. Chances are the man wouldn't even have a wand and his magic would be weak. It was actually at bit of an unfair fight, but Severus did not care. It would be the end of him if something happened to Lucy or Harry at the hands of Musgrave, especially if he could have prevented it.

Black and Musgrave made a pact before they escaped. They had come to the conclusion that there was safety in numbers. They had made the assumption that by the time Musgrave was ready to make good his escape, Black would have managed to secure a safe house. Their problem would be communication. Thus, it was decided that starting at midnight on the first of every month for next three months, Black would wait for three hours at a predetermined location. If Musgrave had escaped, he would meet Black and from there they would decide their next course of action. After three months, Black was to assume that Musgrave was either unable to master his transformation or died in his escape attempt.

According to Black, if Musgrave was alive, he would have met Black tonight. Severus followed along and watch in the darkness hidden under a Disillusionment spell.

Attempting to capture Musgrave was fraught with danger, the least of which was from Musgrave himself. He would not prove a challenge against two armed wizards. The rub lay in what to do with Musgrave if they manage to capture him. The Ministry went through pains to insure that the escape of what they considered to be a low-risk prisoner, be kept quiet. They had more to lose if Musgrave was captured than not.

If Severus and Black turned Musgrave directly over to the authorities, the might find themselves in prison on trumped up charges , just to keep the story quiet.

According to the guard that Severus spoke to, Musgrave's infraction was considered a crime of passion and he was not considered a danger to the community as a whole. The Ministry was more afraid of what would happen to their jobs if it were discovered by the general public that a second break-out had occurred in as many days, than what might happen to one witch if her ex-lover knocked on her door.

When Severus informed Albus of what he had discovered, he could feel the magic ripple off the Headmaster from the old wizard's un-checked anger.

"If you catch him, bring him to me, Severus. It is too dangerous for you to approach the Ministry yourself. Although you used Veritasirum, the guard may only be repeating rumours...the truth as he knows it. I need proof if I am to make an accusation serious enough to place high level officials in Azkaban. If what the old guard says is true—that is exactly where I will see Fudge. Even if Kenneth died in prison, the prison administration and the Ministry have much to answer for."

It should not have surprised Severus that the greatest danger came from Black himself. If Severus had known where Black was going to take him, he would have seen the plan as the suicide mission that it had nearly turned into.

"Snape...Snape." Black called out as he ran to catch up with Severus' long hurried strides. "I'm sorry. How was I supposed to know that the bloody Prince of Wales lived there?"

Severus spun around and pointed his finger at Black. "Everybody knows the Prince and Princess of Wales lives at Kensington Palace, Black. As soon as you landed us along the Long Water, I knew it was a bad idea."

"I've been in prison for five years, Snape."

Severus rolled his eyes and continued his march towards the castle. "They've lived there longer than that, Black. Read a damned history book once in a while...and why are you still following me?" he asked in exasperation.

"I'm trying to explain..."

"You've explained enough. You wanted to give it another half an hour. Next time, stick with the plan." Severus sighed and shook his head as he opened the smaller single entry door that was imbedded within the grand main doors of the castle. "I just want to get some sleep before my lessons in the morn..." Severus looked at his pocket watch and wearily corrected himself. "Five and a half hours. You may use my Floo to get home."

Black mumbled under his breath as he followed Severus into the castle. "It's not my fault the Prince chose to live in a bloody park."

What had ever possessed Black and Musgrave to meet at the statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens was beyond Severus. Yes—the park was closed to the public at night and Muggle London would be the perfect place to become lost forever, but the heir to the Crown and his family lived almost close enough to have to draw their drapes for privacy. Security would no doubt be patrolling adjacent park.

The three hours ticked by at a snail's pace, but Severus remained hidden in the brush under his Disillusionment Charm. Black remained in his Animagus form, lying so still along the base of the statue, one would of had to be practically on top of him to know that he was there.

One's senses were immediately struck with the smell of bird dung from the countless ducks and geese that found refuge in the man-made lake in the heart of London. The water fowl lined the bank as they slept peacefully with their heads tucked under wings.

The only other sign of life was a rookery that found refuge atop one of the nearby bare Rowan trees. Severus eyed the birds suspiciously, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Although rooks were uncommon in London, they were not unheard of in the green spaces. They too, seemed to be uninterested in the sleeping dog below.

Time came to a standstill and Musgrave had yet to make an appearance.

At ten minutes to three, Black transfigured back into his human form in order to talk to Severus and communicate his desire to give Musgrave another half-hour. This act had disturbed the rookery. The cacophony of sound that broke the still and silence of the park drew the attention of patrolling guards.

Severus swore. Severus was still concealed under the spell but the Muggles had spotted Black and started to run towards their direction yelling at Black not to move.

Black made to Disapparate until Severus reminded him to stop and not to run. If Black used magic in front of Muggles...royal detail no less...there would be hell to pay. Dressed from head to toe in black, Black did not exactly look like the picture of innocence at three in the morning.

Most Muggle constables were unarmed, but if these men were part of a royal detail, they were likely carrying fire-arms. A precisely placed bullet was every bit as lethal as any spell. Dead, after all, was dead. How one arrived there was totally incidental.

Black looked absolutely terrified as one guard began to ruthlessly handcuff him as the other barked out questions so quickly, Black scarcely had time to answer one before he was inundated with the next.

Without revealing himself, Severus cast a precisely placed and particularly powerful Body-Binder Curse that paralysed all three men. He released Black from the curse and literally pulled him by the ear into the cover of the trees.

"Get your arse back to Hogwarts." Severus snapped. "I'll be right behind you."

Severus only lingered long enough behind the camouflage of the brush to release the Muggles from the curse and Obliviatethe entire incident. But before he released his curse and Disapparated, Severus thought he heard the tell-tale 'pop' of Apparationoff in the distance. Had they narrowly missed Musgrave or was it a car back-firing? After sixty seconds, there was no sign of an approach by man or beast, Severus passed it off as the latter.

Musgrave may not have shown up that night, but it proved nothing to Severus. Even if he did not show up in the subsequent two months, there was no definitive evidence to explain what might have happened to Musgrave. Lucy was right—they could not live their lives in fear, but that did not get rid of the irritating knot in Severus' gut. The same feeling that told Severus that they had not seen the last of the Dark Lord, told him that they have not seen the last of Kenneth Musgrave.

Yellow eyes followed the wizards the entire length of the pass that led up to the castle from the safety high atop a Scotch pine. His fear was realised—Black had betrayed him too.

Musgrave had joined the parliament at Kensington two days prior to await Blacks arrival. By living as a bird for the past month, it had been easier for him to live in the wild. He did not require as much food and since his stay in Azkaban his body was adapted for living out-of-doors. Kenneth was ready to find Lucy and resume his life as a human again.

When Black had escaped, the lack of human contact amongst the Dementors was more than he could stand. Kenneth had many demons and they made a point to haunt him quickly when there was nothing else to keep him occupied. He had considered taking his life the next night. Kenneth had even constructed a noose.

But those same nightmares of his Lucy in the arms and bed of another man...the ones that nearly led to a pointless suicide, instead spurred him to action. He would not give Lucy and Snape the satisfaction of laughing over his corpse.

Despite the fact he had not yet learned to fly, Kenneth transformed into a rook and just as Black had done, he simply walked unnoticed out of the prison past non-human and human guards. He hid amongst the rock cliffs for two weeks, feeding on the eggs and hatchlings of the rare Azkaban Gannets that bred year long on south slope of the magical island.

Once he was capable of fight, his avian instincts had attuned themselves to Magnetic North. From there it was a simple matter to find Scotland, which lay to the southwest.

Kenneth had considered going straight to Hogwarts, but avoided the obvious places the Ministry, or anyone else would haunt him...Hogwarts, his home in Sheffield, and Malfoy Manor.

Kenneth slowly made his way to London, only changing to his human form twice on days that were warm enough that he could remain hidden in the forests.

It had been his intention to meet up with Black straight away, but perched on high with the rest of his new parliament, something seemed off when the great black dog arrived. Kenneth could not see that something was off, but he could hear it...an unnatural rustling in the brush that was not caused by the wind.

He decided to wait until the last possible minute before making his presence known to Black. It was a decision that may have saved his life.

For some unknown reason, Black had changed back to his human form...catching the attention of the night patrols.

Kenneth was ready to ambush the Muggles to afford Black his escape. One could only imagine his surprise when a curse had hit the three men from out of nowhere. Kenneth would be caught completely off-guard when he discovered that Sirius Black's saviour was none other than Severus Snape.

Kenneth heard Snape's cry to meet at Hogwarts. Kenneth flew off and landed on the far side of the Italian Garden. He Apparated to the far side of Hogsmeade and caught up with Black and Snape just as they entered the castle grounds. They were too busy squabbling with one another to notice his approach.

It was obvious to Kenneth that Black had failed him. If Kenneth was going to exact his revenge, he would have to do it alone. Unfortunately, he would have to bide his time. Snape was obviously on high alert and would notice anything out of the ordinary. Kenneth had waited this long...he could be patient. Snape would let his guard down...eventually.