Seven Slytherin.

Thirty-four Gryffindor.

Twenty-one Ravenclaw.

Thirteen Hufflepuff.

A grand total of seventy-five students. That was the number of children who had been forced to use the Black Quill. The very thought that this many students had been hurt in such a way made Severus’ blood boil. He wanted to blast something apart, preferably Umbridge. Legal or illegal, at this point, he didn’t care.

With the initial danger passed, the prefects were sent off to alert their Heads of Houses. Draco had proven to be an enormous asset in all this. Severus never thought he would ever forgive Draco for his rash actions, but after this nonsense and after the way the young man worked with the other Prefects, Severus was actually thankful for him. If it weren’t for that ridiculous spell placed on them in the first place, Severus might not have found this plague. He could only imagine the problems it would’ve caused.

If the woman had used the quill just one more time on Harry…

With the rage coursing through his veins, Severus marched to the fireplace, bent on giving Dumbledore a piece of mind. It was his fault for letting the hag into this school. It was his fault for letting her have so much power. And Dumbledore was going to get rid of her once and for all, if Severus had anything to say about it.

And he had a lot to say about it.

Severus flung Floo powder into the grate of the fireplace, shouting, “Headmaster’s Office.” A moment later, he stepped out of the fire, his eyes burning with fury. Dumbledore smiled from behind his desk, just as Severus stepped forward.

“Ah, Severus, how nice of you to join us,” said Dumbledore, in that merry tone that made Severus want to hex the old man out of his wits. “Maybe you can explain what is going. Dolores has mentioned something about an overuse of the Floo within the past hour.”

Severus slowly turned his head. There she was, standing in the middle of the room, wearing that nasty pink cardigan. Her back was erect, as if she were trying to seem taller than she actually was. Her cheeks went pink as she caught sight of Severus.

And Severus saw red.

He moved faster than he ever had in his life. He advanced on her, whipping out his wand before she could react and sticking it an inch away from her nose; her eyes were wide and slightly cross eyed as she stared at the wand. Dumbledore bolted to his feet, shock played across his face.

“Severus!”

“Give me one good reason,” hissed Severus, his voice barely above a whisper. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hex your eyes right out of your skull and feed them to the Thestrals!”

“H–ho–how dare you!” cried Umbridge, thoroughly indignant, but the fear still evident in her bright eyes.

“Severus, control yourself!” said Dumbledore, admonishing him in a serious tone. Severus didn’t move; his glared at the horrid woman, his eyes boring into hers.

“I will not,” whispered Severus.

“Probation!” squeaked Umbridge, her voice cracking. “You’re on probation! If you do not remove your wand at once, you are fired!”

Severus’ eyes widened darkly. The woman cowered against the wall he had her pinned against.

“Go ahead.”

“Severus, I think an explanation is in order,” said Dumbledore, now sounding even more alarmed. “Quickly.”

But Severus didn’t care. He continued to stare at the woman who had caused so much pain. Voldemort was different. He’d always had that element of a Dark Lord. In the days Severus had joined those ranks, Voldemort had been a man of power. When he spoke, no one questioned that power.

But this woman was different. She was like a leach. She was like a virus. Her curse slipped through their defenses without their notice. She had attempted reform and they hadn’t tried to stop her. She was more frightening than Voldemort. The Dark Lord would and could kill, yes. But this woman had more cunning, had more ambition than they all had.

She was dangerous.

“Seven Slytherin,” whispered Severus. “Thirty-four Gryffindor. Twenty-one Ravenclaw. Thirteen Hufflepuff.”

The silence burned.

“That is the number of students in the hospital wing,” continued Severus, his voice still that deadly whisper. “That is a grand total of seventy-five. Do you have any idea as to why they would need to report to the hospital wing?”

If any of the students could see this man now, they would’ve been terrified. They would’ve feared for their very lives. The way Umbridge trembled at her spot confirmed this very fact.

“Someone has used a Black Quill on them,” whispered Severus.

“What?” breathed Dumbledore.

“Sixteen of those students are ill. They would’ve been more gravely ill if I hadn’t found this out,” said Severus, his voice rising a little higher. He paused, before glaring even more fiercely. “One is currently fighting for his life because of overextended use of the quill.”

“Who?” breathed Dumbledore.

“Harry Potter.”

What if he hadn’t found out? Would this have happened? Would they had found out when Harry collapsed in the corridor? Were they so clueless about the happenings in the school that they couldn’t see the threat within its very doors? If this kept up, they would fall apart and be ripe pickings for Voldemort to prey upon.

“Due to extended use of the quill,” whispered Severus; he still hadn’t lowered his wand and it seemed that Dumbledore didn’t think it was needed now. “Mr. Potter has been magically poisoned. The magic of the quill tainted his core and has been for what seems like over a week or so now. Because of this, his body is breaking down. Poppy is worried about whether or not he’ll make it through the night.”

Dumbledore sucked in his breath.

“Do you still think I am not in control, Albus?” hissed Severus. “Potter might die because of this.”

He sharply prodded Umbridge in the nose with his wand. She flinched, letting out a scream as sparks flared from the wand’s tip.

“You have never failed in making your disdain of Mr. Potter known!” screeched Umbridge. “

“I must not tell lies.”

Umbridge paled.

“I must be seen and not heard,” whispered Severus. “I must not fail.”

Hearing cruel words from someone else once was never enjoyable. Hearing them in your own mind, each scratch, each piercing drop of blood stolen, each second those words touched the paper, must have been true agony.

“I must not make my opinion known.”

The woman was more vicious than a serpent.

“I must not be disobedient.”

She knew exactly how to pinpoint each child she had terrorized with the right words – the very words which would wound the spirit.

“I must not be a dreamer.”

This woman should’ve never entered these sacred halls.

“I must not be a child.”

Severus pulled back, his wand still on Umbridge. She was paler than ever. Briefly, he glanced at Dumbledore. The old man never looked more frightening than he did now, but it was so subdued that only those who knew the old man well would be able to tell the difference. With an malevolent sneer, Severus looked back at Umbridge.

“There are many more than that,” said Severus, his lip curling. “But those are certainly the more notable ones.”

It took only a moment from the nasty woman to collect herself. She straightened, as if this action would add anything to her abysmal height. She swelled, like croaking frog about to pop – Severus hoped she would croak; poetic justice, then.

“I don’t see how you’re in any position to point fingers, Severus,” snapped Umbridge, her voice still unnaturally high. “On many occasions you’ve said things to the students. I don’t see—”

“I don’t carve it into their skin!” shouted Severus; sparks ignited from his wand again. Umbridge screamed again. He ignored her. “Oh, yes, I know my tongue is unruly and sharp, but don’t you dare put me in the same category as you! I’ve never used an illegal Black Quill as a disciplinary tool!”

“There is nothing wrong with such discipline!” shouted Umbridge, her skill voice piercing the ears. “The students needed to be contained!”

“They are children!” bellowed Severus at the top of his lungs. “One would think you had never seen such creatures before!”

“Severus, I had thought highly of you,” said Umbridge, exhaling in a low huff. “Out of all of the teachers here, I never thought you would be the one to go against me.”

He couldn’t hex her, no matter how much he wanted to – two wrongs didn’t make a right. No matter what she had done, if he hexed her lights out, the blame would fall on him and she would slither away.

Oh, but he could get a low blow in.

Severus sneered. “Yes, I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me.”

The woman froze; two pink splotches appeared on her cheeks.

“The very thought of your affection anywhere near my person makes me want to inhale the toxic fumes of dragon dung for hours.”

Umbridge went red.

“Absolutely nauseating to think about, if I were honest,” said Severus, that sneer growing more. “I am floored that you thought I would return any your advances. You disgust me.”

Umbridge opened her mouth. She whipped her wand out and before Severus could react, she was already flicking a spell towards him. Severus side stepped the spell just in time, but before he could block another spell, a clear voice rang out.

“Stupefy.”

The spell shot past Severus, hitting the woman right in the chest. Severus snapped back, his eyes wide in shock. Dumbledore’s wand was lifted in the air, his blue eyes whirling with suppressed fury. After a moment, the old man squeezed his eyes shut, looking older than ever.

“I probably shouldn’t have done that,” said Dumbledore; he put a hand to his forehead. He let out a long sigh as he stared at the woman on the floor. “This… wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Now, the anger which Severus had felt for the hag now bounced to a new target.

“It’s your fault,” snapped Severus. “If you hadn’t let this—” He gestured wildly. “—thing into the castle, none of this would’ve happened.”

Dumbledore bowed his head and put his face into his hands. This only infuriated Severus more. It was like an admission of guilt.

“He’s dying!” shouted Severus, his voice breaking. “He’s dying in there because of her.” Then, as the memory of all those years of pain and sorrow the child must have endured, he added more furiously, “And she’s not the start of it! Harry’s had years of abuse in that house! Did you even think for one second to check on him? All muggle adoption agencies have checkups. Did you ever think that maybe those muggles weren’t the best thing for him?”

“I know, Severus,” whispered Dumbledore. “I know. I have made a grave mistake by him.”

He knew. The old man knew.

Severus hissed, the sound feral.

“For your mistake, there are scars etched into his skin,” hissed Severus. The volume of his voice skyrocketed. “For your mistake, he must bear those scars for the rest of his life! For the rest of his life, they will haunt his dreams!”

“I know, Severus,” whispered Dumbledore, looking far older than Severus had ever seen him. “That is why I have tried to make amends.”

“How?” demanded Severus. “Just how, exactly, have you done this? You have allowed that hag entrance here, causing him great harm that even rivals what the Dark Lord has done to him. A Black Quill, for Merlin’s sake! You left the school defenseless against her; allowed him to stay with me despite our animosity – do you not see this? You have done nothing that would make any of this better!”

“By putting him with you,” said Dumbledore, looking at Severus with saddened blue eyes. “I had felt that things would change between you two. I knew that there was no better protector for Harry than you.”

Severus felt the wind catch in his throat.

“You planned it, didn’t you?” whispered Severus, his eyes beginning to widen.

Of course, that spell was an old one – one that Draco shouldn’t have known at all. His father even wouldn’t have known it. The Malfoys rarely had multiple children. Which meant only one thing. Somehow, Dumbledore had given Draco the information, in the which Draco then returned the favor onto Harry.

“Then…”

“Yes, Severus. I had also planned on removing you from your spying months ago.”

“But… why? I thought…”

Dumbledore smiled at him, a tired, aged, even wrinkled smile.

“Something a little… odd happened to me during the summer. You could say I had a change of perspective.”

“You’ve said that before. What does it mean?” demanded Severus.

“Something not even you would believe.”

The fury rose again, like a sleeping dragon rising from the depths of a volcano.

“Try me!” shouted Severus. “I am tired of your games! Tell me the truth for once, Albus! This isn’t a chess match where you can sacrifice certain pieces for the bigger picture! This is life, real life. A single life is priceless!”

Dumbledore looked stricken by those words. He sighed heavily. For a long moment, nothing was said.

“Do you know anything about the concept of second chances?”

Severus shook his head. He glared. “Get to the point.”

“This is the point, Severus,” said Dumbledore. “If you’ll allow me to get to it, as you say.”

Severus refused to be chastised.

“You’re right, I’m afraid,” whispered Dumbledore. “For too many years I’ve acted aloof, as if I were the mastermind of a game of chess, where my opponent was Voldemort.”

Dumbledore slowly lowered himself to his chair. His shoulders sunk, as if the weight of the world had just settled there.

“And for too long, I had only focused on ending the war between him and I. While my intentions were good – I only wanted to save lives – I ended up losing more than I saved.”

Severus looked down at the floor, unable to stand seeing the old man look so downtrodden.

“So many lives were lost,” murmured Dumbledore. “I can name them off one by one. I can name the families were decimated into extinction. I name the children who were orphaned. But I kept telling myself, ‘I’m doing the right thing.’ How foolish I was.”

This was not how Severus imagined the conversation would go. He didn’t want the man to go into a ‘woe is me’ slump. This wasn’t about him; this was about Harry.

“I found out Tom’s weakness,” continued Dumbledore. “I found out how to stop him. Unfortunately, in my pride, I acted too quickly. I condemned myself to death.”

Hang on, something’s not right here.

Severus frowned and looked up.

“And in the end, I died and left the task to three children, barely of age. What should’ve been my task all along, I failed.”

“Wait, what?” breathed Severus.

Died? What in Merlin’s oversized beard is this old man smoking?

Then, Dumbledore gazed at him through those half moon spectacles and smiled serenely.

“I have lived and died once, Severus. This was my second chance and already I’ve messed it up.”