~~~~HP~~~~

Wednesday 17 December 1997

I can keep a secret for six days… How hard can it honestly be?

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione inquired, warily. The unexpected question drew not only his attention to her but also the attention of the group, especially Draco's, whose steel eyes practically shot daggers out at him. "You've seemed quieter than usual lately like you've got a lot on your mind... which I suppose you do, even if it's not because of exams this week," Hermione continued.

As Harry quickly discovered, keeping a secret as big as a proposal from one of his absolute best friends for the six days before they all left on holiday proved far more difficult than he expected. It never failed that every single time he saw her since he held her future engagement ring in his hands, he imagined the pearly white stone - glimmering shades of green and red across her pale skin whenever it caught the light - on her left ring finger and a warm smile upon her face.

He tried to distract himself at first, which shouldn't have been too difficult given how frequently he used that method to forget parts of his own misery, but no matter how hard he tried not to, his eyes gravitated to her left ring finger, and then - once he realized he was staring - up to Draco's stern face silently warning him to get a hold of himself. When the distraction method failed, he switched tactics to trying to avoid her, hoping that the novelty of it all would wear off by the end of the holiday and he'd be able to return to normalcy.

Unfortunately, by the middle of the week, she picked up on his aloofness and suggested they study for their exams in Harry's room when he said he was too tired to accompany them to the library. That's how Harry found himself in his room with his two best friends, all three of their significant others, and books scattered all across the floor and the foot of his bed. With no exams to study for - a fact Hermione had not so subtly reminded him of - Harry planned to finish the sketch he started weeks ago of Draco and Hermione at the Halloween Ball. He intended to give it to Hermione as part of her Christmas present, but not even five minutes into his work, he discovered his hands were still not cooperating enough for him to put the final touches on the picture. So, he'd resigned himself to doodling geometric shapes that resembled absolutely nothing, further frustrating him on the subject, and what he planned to blame his gloomy mood on until Ron spoke up on his behalf.

"Nice job rubbing it in his face, Hermione. Some friend you're turning out to be," Ron shot back from his spot on Harry's floor near his wardrobe, Lavender to his left, both Gryffindors pouring over a term's worth of notes. Hermione and Draco sat directly across from them, using the bottom of Harry's bed as a backrest, leaving Luna facing Harry at the foot of his twin-sized bed. "For Merlin's sake, give the guy a break over it."

The glare Hermione shot Ron rivalled some of Snape's best, causing Harry to laugh and instantly lightening the atmosphere throughout the room.

"It's all right, Ron." Harry waved off his support, though grateful for the distraction from Hermione's engagement, even if it was at his expense. "Let's be honest, I wouldn't be able to handle any classes, let alone exams, right now. So it's probably for the best that I don't have to worry about it."

Draco loudly huffed. "Oh, you mean you're relieved you don't have to keep up with seventh-year classes while being out every month? Because I can tell you, with a high level of confidence I might add, that with all the 'time off' I've had this year, I'll be lucky to pass one exam. How long was I out of classes? A week for the flood, two for my stint in Azkaban, a week and a half for the damn Draugr. Did I miss any days after the Three Broomsticks?" Harry shrugged, having a hard time recalling the event in any detail. "That's at least a month out of three and a half months of term! Maybe I just won't come back in January to save myself from the inevitable plague."

"Well, someone's knickers are certainly in a bunch today," Ron laughed, exchanging a mischievous look with Harry. "Rough Arithmancy exam? I thought you considered yourself some kind of expert in the subject. I'm sure Hermione could help you solve whatever you're stuck on if you need it."

"Shove it, Weasley," the Slytherin replied, his clenched teeth tight. "At least we-" he casually placed his arm around Hermione, "-take classes to challenge ourselves. It's more than you can say. You're taking what? The bare minimum to get a random job after Hogwarts?"

Ron tossed a broken quill at Draco, who caught it with ease. "Listen, my aspirations are my own to deal with, thank you very much."

"At least until your mum gets involved," Harry added with a sly smile. "You know she's going to bug you all holiday about your plans after the year is out."

"You're right." Ron signed and rolled his eyes. "Maybe I won't go home on Saturday after all… to, y'know, avoid the interrogation and all the questions I don't feel like answering."

"You certainly will not!" Lavender slapped him across the shoulder with more force than Harry would have appreciated if it had been him. "Your mother has finally invited me to a family event, like an actual girlfriend! You aren't ruining my one opportunity to impress her all because you can't face your mother about your plans for next year."

Lavender's declaration, or more accurately Ron's embarrassment over it, elicited a round of laughter from the group of friends. The happiness that grew in Harry's heart as he heard their voices echo off the stone walls pushed out the sadness that threatened to overtake him at the thought of his own Christmas plans; or lack thereof. On Friday night, as all his friends were saying their goodbyes and excitedly talking about what their new few weeks held - Ron and Lavender at the Burrow, Hermione and Draco at a Christmas Eve party with the Grangers followed by Christmas at Malfoy Manor, and Luna travelling to the Alps with her father - he'd be checking into Guildford Hospital he'll be checking into the Guildford hospital for his second round of Cycle B instead of heading to Shell Cottage where Harry truly wished to spend the holiday.

With his treatment looming on the horizon, Harry had purposefully avoided asking Snape about their specific plans for Christmas when they discussed it earlier in the week. Secretly, he had hoped the professor would arrange for his treatment to be completed at the cottage, as he had done last year. But the closer Friday got, the more he realized it would be an impossible and idiotic thing to do. Last round, he'd had a bloody seizure on the first day of this cycle, and the genuine possibility of it happening again wasn't something they could ignore because Harry wanted to spend his holiday by the sea; his life couldn't be that simple. Rather than dwell on his emotions, he deliberately soaked up the sound of his lively friends around him.

As the conversation shifted back to their exams from their holiday plans, Harry doubled-down on his sketchbook, particularly the random twists and turns his muggle pencil was taking seemingly all on its own. Because drawing people and places required concentration and a steady hand Harry no longer possessed, Harry had to constantly remind himself not to compare his new normal to his old. Meaning when it eventually became impossible to keep the lines straight, he tried not to berate himself and instead used some creative liberty to incorporate the newfound waviness into his images. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do when a ferocious, Cruciatus-like explosion of pain shot down his right arm - from his shoulder through his elbow and into his fingers -, pushing his hand and pencil across the picture, leaving a graphite trail in its wake.

"Dammit!" Harry yelled, clutching his hand to his chest. Everyone's conversation around him came to a halt at his harsh exclamation, and no one dared to make a move. Feeling all their eyes on him, Harry did his best to keep the tears from welling up at the corners of his eyes. "I'll be-" he started, then stopped as a second bolt of pain shot through his hand. "I'll b-be fine," he choked out after it passed.

The air in the room stood still as Harry concentrated on breathing through the pain until Luna silently rose from her position at the foot of his bed and gingerly walked to the bedside table on his left. He heard the drawer open and her rummaging through it, but he didn't mind about his potential lack of privacy. All he could think about was maintaining any semblance of his composure until this episode subsided.

"Here, Harry, use this." The young wizard opened his eyes - when had he closed them in the first place? - and forced a small smile at the small tube of cream Luna held out to him. "It will help."

His trembling left hand took the tube, allowing her to flip open the cap for him so he could pour it out onto the small muscles on the top of his hand and then rub it in, starting with his hand and working his way up to his shoulder, adding more cream as needed. It didn't work nearly as quickly as magical salves, but eventually, the aching dulled enough for his breathing to return to normal.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry mumbled, nodding his head to assure everyone that he was fine. She leaned in and placed a small kiss on his cheek before sitting beside him. But no one said anything else; they simply sat there staring at Harry, unsure of what, if anything, they should do. He was about to tell them to ignore him when he noticed a large black spot on his rug in front of Hermione growing in size and creeping closer to her coveted notes. "Erm, Hermione? I think Luna might've knocked your inkwell… it's 'bout to take over your Charms work."

Hermione gasped and quickly drew her notes up, placing them on the safety of Harry's bed just before the ink hit their precious pages. "Wow, that was close! I haven't revised those yet."

Suddenly, the ink on the rug vanished, despite Harry not seeing anyone draw their wand. The five other teenagers exchanged puzzled looks, all wondering who had wandlessly and nonverbally vanished the ink. Harry's face became fiery hot. If none of them had cleaned up the ink, the last logical explanation was him - or his accidental magic - which had been happening more often than he liked to admit.

Desperate for any distraction away from him, Harry held up a bundle of four or five Daily Prophets peeking out from the middle of Hermione's stack of books. "What're these? They don't look like class notes to me."

Hermione rose to her knees and snatched the bundle out of his hands. "It's for research -"

"Shocker there," Ron muttered to the group.

Hermione exhaled deeply, somewhere between frustrated and embarrassed. "I have an interview with a paper in Paris between Christmas and New Year, and I want to be prepared."

That's right… her journalism career, Harry thought solemnly.

"C'mon, Hermione," Ron continued in an almost heckling tone. "Unless you're looking at what not to write, we all know you well enough to know you don't seriously consider this rubbish decent research material."

"Did you know the Prophet was once a highly respected and reliable source of Wizarding news? Before they hired a string of dirty journalists like Rita Skeeter?" Hermione challenged them in the same tone she used to use on them when telling them information she thought they should already know. "In fact, the coverage on the first war… which is what you have there, Harry… appears to have been thoroughly researched and objectively reported. It's been quite fascinating to read about an era like this that our parents experienced. Or at least all of your parents. Mine had no idea what was going on or that they'd eventually be a part of it."

Harry casually flipped through the folded copies, scanning the front headings and pictures, which to his surprise were still moving. As Hermione pointed out, they were all from the first war against Voldemort, each with an increasingly worrisome headline, except for one.

The second-to-last edition he held, dated 1 January 1980, featured an expose on the Annual Ministry New Year's Eve Gala and made no mention of Voldemort or the war anywhere on the front page as if they wanted to show Wizarding Britain that life was more than Death Eaters, raid statistics, and the evilest Dark Wizard in most of their lifetimes. As a result, rather than reporting on the most recent fatalities, they filled the pages with joyous pictures from around the hall: one of a young Moody and two people he recognized as Neville's parents laughing with Cornelius Fudge - back then, according to the picture's caption, the future Minister was only the Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes -, another of Augustus Rookwood attentively watching Minister Harold Minchum's speech about his plan to add more Dementors in Azkaban, unaware that the man would eventually betray their organization, and finally a panoramic picture of the sea of black, silver and gold trimmed tables surrounding a large dance floor. Harry inspected the last photograph, hoping to catch a glimpse of his parents on the off chance they were invited to such an event. But aside from a few faces he could go without ever seeing again - Barty Crouch and his wife on the dance floor, Auror Williamson happily talking to some girl sitting at a crowded table, and Ludo Bagman eating alone across from them - he saw no signs of his or Ron's parents.

"Have you come across any articles on the history of Death Eater's masks in your research?"

Draco's question abruptly pulled Harry's attention away from the stories of the past.

"Well, that's an oddly specific question," Luna inquisitively replied. "Why would anyone be concerned about their masks?"

"I was asking Hermione," Draco retorted, "but if you must know, they're all unique. He used it as a way to compartmentalize his followers and conceal the identities of his spies from the public. So theoretically, one Death Eater wouldn't know who did what during the raids. Unless you recognized the masks… which happened more often than Voldemort anticipated. And the reason I'm curious about it now is because I heard a… rumour… that someone from the Prophet came to Azkaban searching for information on them. Obviously, this person didn't know the number one rule there is to keep your mouth shut-"

"In more ways than one, I'm sure," Ron interjected with a hard laugh.

Giving no warning first, Draco moved as if he was about to leap across Harry's small bedroom onto Ron, but he sat back down next to Hermione at the last second. Nevertheless, the action had its desired effect, and Ron jumped backwards into Harry's wardrobe so hard the large piece of furniture nearly toppled forward onto him. Except for Lavender, who clutched her boyfriend's arm protectively, the entire room exploded into laughter.

"That wasn't funny!" Ron bellowed, but didn't retaliate; partially out of fear, Harry suspected.

"Sure was from our point of view, Weasley," Draco taunted. "Perhaps next time you'll keep your mouth shut on the things you know nothing about."

"Did you wear one? A mask?" Harry's voice sounded almost childlike as he asked the question he hadn't realized he wanted to know. "Does Severus have one?"

"Clearly, we both did," Draco curtly answered. His hand nervously rubbed the back of his neck, giving away how uncomfortable the conversation made him. "I'm not sure if Severus kept his or not, but I figured I never know when I might need it again."

Harry took the answer to mean that Draco had kept his too, but he knew better than to ask him directly.

"No," Hermione said, breaking the newly deafening silence. "I haven't found anything about masks. I can keep an eye out for them as I compile my research."

Draco uncharacteristically shrugged. "Don't bother. My best guess is you won't find anything since I guarantee you every single Death Eater in there knows better than to rat anyone out. So, I doubt whoever it was never had enough information to write the damn article."

"Did you-" Harry was about to ask Draco if he recognized any masks when a knock on his door interrupted him, which opened to Snape in the threshold.

"I apologize for interrupting your studies," the professor announced, his dark eyes scanning the three couples in the room, landing on Harry. "I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving. Is there anything you need before I go?"

"No." Harry shook his head with a small frown. "I think I'm all set here. Just going to hang out with these guys and call it an early night."

Snape hesitated for a moment as if he wanted to comment on Harry's lack of plans. Whatever it was, he decided against it and he simply continued with his instructions. "I've left a plate of food warming on the table and your evening tablets in a cup on the kitchen counter. I'd like to see at least half of the food eaten." There it is… he's always worried about my eating. But the internal complaint came accompanied by an unfamiliar warm sensation spreading throughout his chest. It felt good to have an adult care so much for him. "I need to stop by home prior to my return, so please don't wait up for me tonight."

"Is it really wise to let us -" Ron motioned at the group of teenagers, "- know that one of the Heads of Houses won't be here tonight?"

"Given you still have half a week of exams left, I'm shocked you think Miss Granger will allow you any extra time to utilize said information," Snape bantered without missing a beat, ignoring the gaping expression Ron gave in return. "Draco, if you're ready, you are more than welcome to use my floo for your engagement tonight."

Draco's face contorted as he pulled back his robe's long sleeve to examine the extravagant watch on his wrist. "Shite! I'm late," he exclaimed as he gathered his notes and books from Harry's rug and haphazardly shoved them into his school bag. "Yeah, it'll save me a trip to the Headmaster's office."

"Perfect. You may floo to the Manor before I leave for London." Snape's calm tone harshly contrasted Draco's panicked one, drawing more attention to whatever engagement - Harry tried not to read too much into the choice of word - he might be missing. "Harry, I will have my coin on me all night. Please use it if you need anything at all. Your friends may stay as long as all the rules are followed-" he sent Harry a stern warning glare, followed by an equally stern one to Luna, his message loud and clear, "-and they are back in their Houses by curfew."

"No falling asleep in bed, check," Harry dutifully replied. For good measure, he saluted Snape, but the action went unnoticed by the professor who had already turned to leave with Draco following closely behind him.

"Hey Harry, do you know where Snape's going tonight?" Ron asked, too emphatically in Harry's opinion, the moment the door closed behind the pair of wizards.

"Why? Do you want him to join us?"

"No," Ron responded, sounding offended by the insinuation. "He mentioned London, which sounded a bit… muggle… like his girlfriend. And the fact he said he'd be gone at least until curfew made me wonder if it might be a little longer because he's seeing her, giving us several hours-"

"No, you don't, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione lectured, tossing a book at him, which landed perfectly in his lap. "We're studying, remember?"

"Interesting. Given Ron's inquiry, I don't believe most people would be concerned about studying," Luna softly pointed out, however it seemed only Harry heard her.

"No, you're studying, Hermione," Ron corrected her. His hands animatedly pointed at her for emphasis. "Harry isn't. And if it makes you feel any better, you don't have to join us. So what do you say, Harry…"

The pressure in the room continued to grow the longer the silence continued while Harry debated whether he wanted to get involved in whatever certainly bad idea Ron was thinking.

"Why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret this?" Harry muttered to himself. "Well, Severus told me he's going to the muggle pharmacy and to pick up some things for next week, but I know he's actually going Christmas shopping because I saw him working on his list during breakfast." All three girls let out a harmonious 'aww' making Harry cringe at the thought of how Snape would react to hearing it.

"Aaaand how long would it realistically take someone like Snape to shop?" Ron predictably asked.

"Based on the names I saw him scribble down, I'm guessing he has to visit both muggle London and Diagon Alley." Ron impatiently rolled his hand to hurry Harry along. "I don't know what he meant about stopping by home, but I'd guess we have until around curfew. What'd you have in mind?"

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Ron slammed his Potions book closed - folding the notes inside at odd angles - and stacked the books on the side of Harry's wardrobe. In one move, he stood awkwardly and extended his hand to help Lavender off the floor. With a twinkle in his eye, he nodded his head towards Harry's closed door.

"Let me show you what I found the other day doing research for our Defense final. Given the recent… shite… going on lately, I thought it might come in handy.

~~~~SS~~~~

"'This one," Severus confidently told the hovering sales witch, pointing to the Blue Azunite pendant necklace levitating in the glass case below his finger. Despite being the sixth - or was it the seventh - piece of jewellery he has asked to see, something about it convinced him it would make the perfect first Christmas gift for Mae.

"Excellent choice," the white-haired witch said. At his menacing gaze, she opened the case and handed him the stunning piece of jewellery. "The two-carat pear-shaped Blue Azunite pendant hangs from a white gold chain and is the epitome of how appealing simplicity can be.

"Did you know that only Thestrals can locate the Azunite? And the colour of the stone is determined by the moon under which it is mined. No one knows what their natural colour is because they turn colour as soon as they come into contact with the air. This Blue Azunite was formed under the influence of the Blue Moon."

Severus gave a brief nod of approval. Yes, he was already aware of the rich history of this specific stone when he chose it. Not that he'd tell her as much. He'd let her spout out whatever information she considered necessary to make the sale hoping to learn something new. So far, she'd wasted every breath.

Although the delicate, shimmering necklace felt completely foreign in his rough, calloused hands, he imagined it perfectly resting on Mae's neckline. The vivid blue stone would complement her equally vibrant eyes, and while magical in nature, Mae could easily pass it off as an exquisitely cut muggle-equivalent blue topaz. He couldn't have asked for a better gift to express the love and admiration he had for his girlfriend.

"I'll take it," Severus whispered, forcing his gaze away from the enthralling necklace to hand it back to the witch for packing. She smiled as she wrapped the gift for him, clearly pleased with his selection - more likely because of her commission on such a piece rather than the appropriateness of the gift, but Severus hardly cared.

Back outside in the crisp cold air, Severus exchanged the long velvet box for the slip of parchment in his front clock pocket, where he dutifully recorded all the gifts he needed to purchase. This year, besides Harry, Minerva, Lucius, Lupin & Tonks - the usual group - he also had Mae's father, brother, and sister-in-law to buy for because he'd be seeing them when he attended their annual Christmas party on the twenty-fourth. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to attend when Mae asked him about it at the end of their two-hour phone call on Monday night, but she sounded so excited as she explained how her father specifically asked her about Severus and Harry's plans for Christmas Eve, and extended an invitation to them both. Already knowing Harry would be in the hospital during the holiday, and therefore unable to attend, she reassured him there was no pressure for him to be there.

I'm serious, Sev. I totally understand if you want to stay at the hospital with Harry instead. She had hurriedly added, not two seconds after her inviting them. You'll probably be worried about him and not in the Christmas spirit, anyway.

Naturally, he had considered all of that, and while he couldn't accept on the spot without first discussing it with Harry, he tentatively said he'd be there; adding how honoured he felt to be meeting her family especially given her previously strained relationship with her father.

As promised, he and Harry talked about their plans the following morning and beside an obvious disappointment in Harry's eyes - almost enough to make him rescind the option on the spot - the young wizard gave his support, saying they'd have an uneventful Christmas Day together. In hindsight, Severus should have been slightly concerned by his lack of mention of being in the hospital during the timeframe. Surely Harry didn't expect to be home by Christmas?

The three last-minute additions to his Christmas list ultimately forced him to start his night out in muggle London, where he bought a personalized cutting board for Mae's father - because she told him he loved to cook - an exotic coffee and tea set from countries all over the world for Bobby, and a photo album engraved with "The Scott Family" for Lauren, extending his night longer than he preferred to be away from Hogwarts during exam week. It also allowed him the space to clear his mind from the chaos of the last few weeks and prepare for the upcoming challenges.

Severus proudly crossed Mae's name off his list, revelling in the accomplishment of officially finishing his required holiday shopping trip with a solid hour to spare before the school's curfew began. It gave him just enough time to stop by The Enchanted Grape for a bottle or two of his favourite elf-made wine before returning home to drop off his purchases. A quick charm on the wine label would disguise it to appear completely muggle, leaving the wine itself untouched and giving him a unique host's gift from his world.

Plan in place, Severus strolled down to The Enchanted Grape, a small retail front for one of the Wizarding World's most well-known French wineries. Being a week from the Christmas holiday, Severus expected the popular store to be crowded - even as it approached their closing hour - with people gathering the final touches for their own Christmas gatherings, so when he walked into a nearly empty store he should have known something was amiss. And it certainly should not have taken him until the second aisle, right as reached for the holiday edition bottle of Fallen Touch elf-made wine, to notice someone watching him through the gaps in the shelves. To be sure, he carefully placed the two bottles of wine into his basket and took an extra lap down three more aisles, stopping randomly to read the label of a bottle of red currant and pretend to debate between the knotgrass mead or the bungbarrel spiced mead; eventually choosing neither. With each stop he made, the dark-haired middle-aged wizard ahead of him made a similar one.

"Slow night, tonight?" Severus casually asked as he approached the young witch at the till. She barely acknowledged his presence, taking an extra thirty seconds after Severus placed his meagre two bottles of wine on the counter to finish reading whatever caught her interest in the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

"It's a Wednesday," she replied, bored. She didn't so much as look at him while she wrote up his ticket. "Just these?"

He glared down at the two lonely bottles on the counter, then at her scribbling on the pad. Both motions went entirely unnoticed. "Yes, this is all for today."

As soon as he stepped out of the shoppe and into the busy alley, the surrounding air tingled his nerves. The prudent thing to do, would be to head straight to the Leaky Cauldron and then out into muggle London to disapparate home. Without knowing the intentions of his followers, it'd get him out of any potential danger as quickly as possible. Except between missing both encounters at the hospital, the accumulation of everything going on in the castle - the flood, draugr, Three Broomsticks -, and all the waiting they have to do regarding Harry's adoption and treatment, he had become far too passive for his liking. For once he wanted to take control of a situation. He needed to for his own sanity. Mind made up, he turned on his heels and weaved through the various street carts, pausing here or there to buy time to find an appropriate location to act, while also allowing his pursuer to catch up; to incorrectly feel as if he were the one in control.

He slowed his pace and drew his wand discreetly, ready to overtake the wizard who'd been following him in the small alcove at the turn into Knockturn Alley. As he expected, as soon as he crossed into the figuratively and literally dark street, he heard the footsteps of his follower speed up, likely intending to trounce Severus in the same manner. Severus, on the other hand, was quicker, and in one smooth movement he had the other wizard pinned against the back wall out of sight, with his wand forcibly pushed into his assailant's cheek so hard he had no doubt it'd leave a mark; proving to himself that while his skills were rusty, they weren't gone.

Given the remoteness of their location, the already dim lantern on Knockturn Alley provided little lighting for Severus to positively identify the offending wizard other than his dark head of hair. His voice, though, sent a shiver down Severus's spine.

"C'mon Severus," the nearly giddy voice goaded him, "we both know if you wanted to kill me I'd be long dead."

Jugson. One of the infamous missing death eaters.

"Where's Gibbons?" The professor aggressively pushed his wand deeper into Jugson's cheek. "Last I heard you two crawled into some wretched hole to either die or await your chance to strike. Based on the pathetic work I've personally seen out of you two, my bet was on the former, but some people overestimate your abilities. I'd love to be the one to annihilate you and put that theory to rest."

"They're coming for us," Jugson muttered the four words that had been plaguing Severus's sleep since the day before the attack on the school.

"You-" Severus accused the man in front of him of leaving the missive, before getting cut off by a voice approaching behind him.

"Actually, it was me."

Keeping his grip on Jugson secure, Severus whirled around, his wand brandished and a curse ready on his lips, and nearly gasped at the sight of the familiar old man from the hospital holding an illuminated wand out in front of him.

"Gibbons, I presume?" He spat out, refusing to lower his wand despite Gibbon's non-threatening stance.

"At least once the Polyjuice Potion wears off," the other wizard explained. "Was that the infamous girlfriend we saw at our last meeting? The one you brought here a few weeks ago? Risky, don't you think? Especially for you."

"Don't you dare," Severus threatened. Suddenly, standing among the people who had caused him so much anxiety in the last fortnight, he needed his answers to his plethora of questions. "What do you want from me? And who is coming after us? Did you have anything to do with the attack at the school?!"

"Let me go and we'll tell you what we know," Jugson offered, never once sounding aggressive or dangerous. "Then perhaps, between the three of us, we can finally sort all of this out."

Severus didn't trust them as far as he could throw either of them, but he recognized they were the only ones who could provide information on their assailant who left them unconscious in the muggle hospital, whether Dr Taylor was involved, and, of course, the reasoning behind the missive they slipped to him.

"Ok," Severus eventually conceded, loosening his grip to allow Jugson to properly stand, then dragging him so both wizards were in his line of sight. "But if I so much as suspect a hint of either of you being up to something, I will not hesitate to stun you and deliver you straight to Samson. I'm sure they'd send you straight to Azkaban without so much as asking your names first. And according to what I've heard, anyone bearing the Dark Mark still has the honour of daily visits from the dementors, even if they no longer fully guard the prison."

The two wizards hesitated - an unwise choice, in Severus's opinion. Nonetheless, they agreed to his terms and the now trio of Dark Marked wizards moved silently out of the darkness of the alcove to a discreet corner of the alley; away from the other dark patrons, yet illuminated enough for Severus to keep a close eye on his companions, who he had corralled against the brick wall.

"Talk," Severus menacingly stated.

Jugson began, "It's been a strange time, Severus. At least for those of us who weren't pardoned by the Minister."

"I more than earned my pardon."

Gibbons gave a humourless laugh. "Good. Because we're taking a chance by speaking to you and hoping your pardon can help us."

"Us?" Severus encircled the three of them with his hand. He found his tentative association with the two fugitive Death Eaters to be equally concerning and terrifying, especially Since Sampson's leading theory was to pin everything on these two who appeared more scared than dangerous.

"We think so," Gibbons said, returning to his normal self, the Polyjuice Potion now out of his system. "You hear what happened to Ash and Talpin?"

"Which part?"

Jugson squinted his eyes, clearly aware of Severus's desire not to reveal any unnecessary information. "The Diagon Alley explosion, followed by their short stint in Azkaban before being killed."

"Or killed themselves," Severus challenged, testing out the leading theory behind the two deaths against whatever these two might know. Although he was beginning to suspect they were targeted based on Draco's account from Greyback.

"They were murdered," Gibbons stated unequivocally. "The Dark Lord never officially marked them for a reason. Neither of them was smart enough to pull off a double suicide a week into their sentences."

"Go on," the professor prompted, secretly agreeing with their assessment of the two wizards who never earned their Mark.

"So after everything that went down at the Manor, we all lived together for a while," Gibbons explained. "As soon as we heard about the Dark Lord's fall, we figured they'd be out trying to round up those who weren't there, so we went to the last place we thought they'd expect to find us… a muggle village."

"Guildford," Severus added, reasoning that if Dr Taylor ran into them on the night of their attack, they lived in the area.

Gibbons gave a nod. "Ash knew a guy who gave us new identities, and we disguised ourselves whenever we went out. Worked for a while too, until Talpin got the bright idea in his head that we shouldn't be the ones in hiding and wanted to show the Ministry what they could do."

"And that was?"

"He showed us a new spell he'd been working on," Jugson said, taking charge of the narrative. "Claimed it was how he had planned to earn 'his mark'... And to be honest, had he got the chance to show it off, it could have changed things… by a lot."

Severus's heart raced as he mentally guessed what the spell could have been, already knowing the answer. "And how did this spell work?"

Gibbons grinned maniacally. "It removed any enchantments placed on the object or location."

Fuck.

Severus fingered his wand, ready to cast any number of damaging spells if the situation turned dire. This had to be the source of the damn spell that seemed to be at the centre of every event the new order was attempting to unravel.

"Any enchantments?" The professor confirmed. "Regardless of who placed it or when?"

"Ideally, yeah," Jugson said. "But it was far from perfect, which is why he hadn't shown it to the Dark Lord before. We tried to warn him he still needed to work out the kinks, but he was getting desperate. And he wanted our help to make a stand."

"Did you assist him in correcting it?"

Jugson shook his head. "Not much. Ash had already been involved from the beginning. Us?" He made a motion to himself and Gibbons. "We said they needed to let things settle a little longer to make a move. They disagreed with us and went out on their own."

"So they attacked Diagon Alley," Severus added, absorbing the information.

"Idiots, really," Gibbons grumbled. "We told 'em to test it out on someplace quieter… more subtle. But y'know how they were. Guess it's why the Dark Lord only trusted 'em to clean up the raids instead of doing 'em."

The two allegedly missing Death Eaters guffawed, which Severus did not join in on after discovering the source of the spell which haunted him The issue, however, fell in the fact that Talpin and Ash had already been arrested when the other incidents occurred, most which were not reported on in the Prophet. The Godric's Hollow attack was really the only one he could inquire about without revealing his knowledge of the spell's use elsewhere.

"Wasn't there a similar spell used during the Godric's Hollow attack several months ago?" He asked. He hoped didn't underestimate their knowledge. To keep them on track, he added, "Or at spell to dispel the enchantments on the residents' homes? According to what I've read, they… or someone… tried it on the old Potter Estate."

"You are correct," Jugson - the more astute of the two, Severus noted - replied cautiously.

Severus tightened his grip on his wand "Yet Talpin and Ash were already in Azkaban… or on their way there… at the time of the Godric's Hollow attack. So who did it?"

The next thirty seconds of silence, during which Severus waited for any movement from the other two wizards, were some of the longest of his life. And Severus could never have predicted Jugson's response when he finally spoke again.

"That's exactly what we need your help to uncover." Jugson gave no indication of lying; and after teaching eleven to eighteen-year-olds for more than a decade, on top of being a double agent spy, Severus could spot a lie a kilometre away. "It sounded like Talpin and Ash kept the spell under wraps pretty well. However, after the Godric's Hollow thing… a disaster, if you ask me… we started to notice some odd things happening around home. Got the feeling we were being followed, which seemed odd since no one around us knew we were wizards. Or at least they shouldn't've known."

"Then we got attacked one night," Gibbons interjected. "A muggle, of all people, based on their shitty knife work. We'd just decided it was high time for us to bounce. Planned to skip town the next day, in fact. Wish we would've left 'fore then, but our new muggle papers weren't ready. We picked 'em up the next day-"

"After leaving the muggle hospital?"

"Yeah," Gibbons slowly replied, slightly skeptical of Severus's knowledge of their brief hospital stay. "We went straight to the warehouse to meet our guy, healed ourselves there, then left town as soon as we had 'em. Never got to use 'em, though, since we heard the aurors we're lookin' for us."

"The muggle liaison office notified them because it appears you defended yourselves using magic," Severus offered, refusing to disclose his involvement with the DMLE through Jessica. It already unnerved him how they knew about Mae, the last thing he needed was to include them further.

"You bet we did!" Gibbons proudly declared. "Probably scared the shite outta the muggle too. We should've started with our wands, maybe then we wouldn't've been hit at all."

"I doubt it," Severus admitted. "So what happened next? What made you feel the need to approach me?"

Jugson spoke up, "Been on the move since. And every time we think we've found some peace, we get followed. No idea how they're finding us or who's doing it.

"Wethought Lucius was behind it all. Because who else can afford to track down a couple of marked wizards who don't want to be found?" Severus agreed, unable to argue against Lucius's vast resources, both financial and personal, and unwilling to provide any additional information on Lucius's involvement. "Except it seems that our favourite Malfoy hasn't had it much better than us. As far as we can tell, they've been bombarded by attacks too… nothing nearly as damaging as what we've been through, looks like it's mostly attempts on their wards, but it's enough to where your highness rarely leaves his estate nowadays."

Severus did not validate their accusation with a response.

"So then we turned to you," Gibbons said. "And imagine our surprise to discover that someone had attacked the Slytherin common room earlier this year."

"It wasn't attacked," Severus responded, not offering any elaboration on the details. While they accounted for the Dissolving Spell, they seemed unaware of the Obcasio sand.

"Sure it wasn't," Jugson chuckled. "Whatever happened, we figured you'd either be smart enough not to attack your house, or so smart that you'd do it to throw the aurors off your trail. And based on your history, it was a toss-up to which side you fell on. In the end, we figured we needed to know which one before we approached you and that's when we discovered your regular visits to the Guildford hospital… with the Potter kid, of all people."

The hair on Severus's neck instantly stood up. The one drawback to Harry's regular treatments was just that… They were regular. He stayed in the hospital for about a week, then went home for three, and returned, with a clinic visit in between. It made them extremely vulnerable, even if Jugson and Gibbons didn't, at first glance, appear to be a threat.

"We watched you," Gibbons continued. "Followed you, Potter, and your girl, as much as we could to find out if you were with the person harassing us."

Incarcerous. With the two wizards so close together, Severus decided the binding spell would be his best option. Given his skill level, he was confident he'd get them together on the first try. Having the spell prepared to go, he asked, "And? What did you decide?"

Jugson grinned. "You're too fucking busy to be hunting anyone down."

Severus let out a sigh of relief and relaxed the grip on his wand. He'd surely find the carvings close to permanently indented on his palm for as long and tightly as he gripped the handle.

Gibbons' tone softened. "That's 'bout when we decided we needed your help."

Severus found himself at a crossroads: trust the Death Eaters, whose story sounded extremely accurate, or to capture them and send their lying arses to Azkaban. Staring at his potential prisoners, he reached deep down to his instincts for guidance. They could have easily kidnapped Mae. They could have got to Harry. Had they wanted to harm him, either physically or mentally, they could have done more than a half-dozen other things. Yet they didn't. They disguised themselves under Polyjuice to deliver him a message… not that he was necessarily in danger - though his rage over the miscommunication threatened to boil over - but that they were, and they needed his help. When he first joined Voldemort, even more so after he'd earned his mark, he felt as if he'd joined a brotherhood. For the first time in his life, he felt he had a family on whom he could rely. Did his feelings towards his brothers change once their leader targeted the woman he loved? Unfortunately, the answer was not so simple, and he wasn't prepared to blindly offer his help.

"What do you want from me?"

Suddenly, a noise from behind him startled Severus. He turned, wand in hand, ready to fight. The sight of an empty street, outside of a fallen metal rubbish bin rolling across the cobblestone, calmed him down enough to face the two wizards again.

"We think it's more followers," Jugson said, his face flushed from the fallen rubbish bin. "There were hundreds of unmarked witches and wizards as crazy as Ash and Talpin. And they're all still out there."

"Or someone from Azkaban," Gibbon added. "There are plenty of ways to get messages out to family or acquaintances on the outside, and I'm sure anyone in there would put a price on the heads of the people out here."

Naturally, those were Severus's leading two theories as well. Frustrated at the lack of new information, the professor reiterated, "Again, what do you want from me?"

The two pairs of eyes trained on him blinked. Once. Twice. Three times before Jugson spoke again, "Information. We think… as I'm sure the DMLE does too… that whoever is behind the Godric's Hollow attack is the one doing everything else. And I'm guessing, since you've seen problems at Hogwarts too, the DMLE has reached back out to their expert spy for advice."

"You're certainly correct on the last account. Their leading theory, however, is that you two are somehow the masterminds behind it all." Severus slyly smirked. "I will admit, they don't have the slightest clue of where the Dissolving Spell originated. I doubt they considered Ash and Talpin, which leaves one very open thread… who else was aware of it?"

The two other wizards looked at each other, dumbfounded. Finally, Jugson responded, "We think maybe someone they lived with before us. Remember, they weren't marked, so unless the Dark Lord needed their… services… they didn't attend nearly as many raids and events as we did. And those were mostly in the early days. After the Dark Lord's return a couple years ago, I could probably count on one hand the number of times the Dark Lord summoned them.

"They were desperate for attention." Jugson paused to collect his thoughts together. "And neither one was the brightest wizard, so I have to imagine they got help on this spell from somewhere. We were hoping you'd be able to find out where and it'd lead us to our guy."

Severus couldn't say the request or their reasoning behind it surprised him. He needed one more piece of information, if not for his own curiosity, then as a bargaining chip for the aurors… Kingsley, specifically, because he didn't trust any other member, not even Tonks.

"You said they told you about the new spell," Severus carefully explained. He had no desire to barter over the details for ages. They either provided the one piece of information they had to offer or he walked away; leaving them to fend for themselves. "I need the incantation and how to cast it. Otherwise, I'm afraid I can't help you."

Jugson drew his wand, which Severus should have expected given his request, and Severus instinctively drew his own in response.

"Haven't lost all of your touch, I see." Jugson held out his wand horizontally. "I was only going to show what you asked for."

Severus accepted the offered wand. "A verbal denotation will suffice. I'll return your wand once I'm satisfied with the spell."

For the next few minutes, Jugson instructed Severus on how to cast Inritum facio, all the while understanding he had no way of testing it, and Jugson and Gibbons weren't actually sufficient in it to begin with. At the very least, it would provide the DMLE with somewhere to start, while demonstrating the lengths to which the two missing Death Eaters would go to get Severus's help.

Once satisfied he had enough to provide Kingsley, Severus returned Jugson's wand along with a stern warning, "You are not to return to the hospital again. If I see either of you… in any form… I will turn you over to the DMLE. Is that clear?"

Gibbons and Jugson silently conversed with one another. An action which made Severus's hands sweat.

"We'll stay away," Jugson assured him. And, despite his better judgement, Severus believed him. "Just remember, we got the old couple's hair for the Polyjuice from the hospital, so I can't guarantee you won't see them walking around."

"I make no promises." Severus narrowed his eyes at the other wizard. "Let this be a lesson to never use hair from a person you might actually encounter at the location you're trying to infiltrate. Unless, of course, you require that specific identity, in which case I'd hope you'd secure the real person prior to assuming their identity."

Jugson frowned, trying to follow Severus's logic, and the professor questioned how Samson could have thought these two were intelligent enough to pull off these attacks.

"When will we hear from you?" Gibbons asked. "We can't exactly show up at the Hogwarts gates, and now the hospital is off limits…"

"I'll be in contact after the New Year," Severus stated. "I'll leave instructions on the tree by the lake where we first met between the fifteenth and the thirtieth of January. If it's not gone by the thirty-first, I'll assume you're dead or no longer interested in my assistance."

It gave him ten days between the New Year and Harry's inpatient treatment on the tenth of January to come up with a better means of communication; not the best, but certainly not the tightest deadline he'd ever worked under. Ideally, Harry would be out of the hospital by the fifteenth, and they would pick it up before his return on the thirty-first, which meant they had no reason to cross paths during either of Harry's stays. On paper, it seemed ideal. In reality, Severus was well aware of how easily the best-laid plans could fall apart. The majority of this year had fallen into the latter category.

"It's a deal," Jugson announced on behalf of the two of them. No one shook on it - a testament to the lack of trust they felt between the new, fragile alliance, one which would require a lot of give and take to build.

Severus waited for Jugson and Gibbons to leave their corner of Knockturn Alley first, then proceeded to the Leaky Cauldron only after he was certain they had completely left the area. In no real rush to return to the school, he strolled through Diagon Alley, trying to make sense of what had happened and digest the new information he had gathered. He had just decided to head home to drop off his gifts and record the new information, when the galleon in his front trouser pocket heated up. Hoping it was Harry asking what was taking him so long, but fearing something had happened, Severus immediately paused right outside the Flourish and Blotts to read the message-

Severus, this is Minerva. There's been an incident at the school. Please return as soon as possible.