“Barlow,” Leif called, walking down the black stone, ornate corridor. He approached the man standing in front of the unusual door, the man wearing solid black, Ministry official robes.

“Marcus,” Barlow said, his hands clasped in front of him, wand in one. “What can I do for you?”

“The disturbance, was it in the Hall of Prophecies?” Leif asked.

“You know I can’t tell you,” Barlow said.

Leif’s eyes narrowed. “And I know you’ve already told.”

Barlow stiffened, staring at Leif.

“So, unless you want Wimbeldon to know you’re not the best Unspeakable, tell me what happened,” Leif threatened, his eyes hard.

“Yeah, it was the Hall of Prophecies,” Barlow said, his eyes darting around behind Leif in case anyone saw them. “A prophecy—one that no one has ever seen there before, by the way—lit up and magic has started leaking from it. No one can get near it. There’s like a barrier and the magic attacks anyone who tries.”

“An activated prophecy?” Leif said.

Barlow nodded. “Seems like, though no one’s ever seen a prophecy do this.”

“Keep me updated, Barlow. I want to know what’s going on with that prophecy,” Leif said.

“Yes, sir,” Barlow said, giving Leif a slight glare.

With another hard look, Leif turned and left the corridor. He turned a corner and found himself face to face with Dumbledore. He cleared his expression despite the anger he felt towards the headmaster.

“Ah, Mr. Marcus, just who I was looking for,” Dumbledore said.

“Is that so?” Leif said, raising an eyebrow.

“I was hoping for some records,” Dumbledore said.

“On what?”

“Life Bonds, all that have existed.”

Leif’s eyes narrowed, a desire to protect rising up in him. “An acquisition request is required to access such records.”

“Of course, of course,” Dumbledore said. “Is there no way around?”

“I’m afraid not,” Leif said shortly. “Ministry policy, you understand.”

“Yes, of course,” Dumbledore said. “Perhaps you can help me. What can happen if a Life Bond is interrupted?”

“It depends on what stage it is in,” Leif said.

“Are there any new bonds in the records?”

Leif just stared at the headmaster, refusing to give the man any confirmation about Severus, Harry, and Draco. He could feel Dumbledore’s attempts to use Legilimency and instantly blocked the man, glaring.

“I will make that acquisition request,” Dumbledore said.

“You do that,” Leif said.

“I hope you understand, Mr. Marcus, that, come September first, your services will no longer be required, as with Mr. Romanov,” Dumbledore said.

“We will see,” Leif said. “Good day, Albus.”

“They are not what you think or want them to be,” Dumbledore said.

“As a matter of fact, I think that’s exactly who they are,” Leif said. “Now, good day, Albus.”

The headmaster inclined his head and Leif watched the man leave. Feeling a muscle in his jaw twitch, he headed for the lift to return to his office on Level Ten. He walked down the long, marble-style corridor and through the gold iron gate that stood as the entrance to the Archives after touching his wand to a smooth plate of golden iron. The bars shifted enough to allow him through, returning to normal upon his entrance.

He glanced at the podium where parchments were moving around and a quill scrawled quickly over each of them. A few acquisition requests, a few returns, and the last week of Daily Prophets being archived. He touched his wand to the requests and watched them fly deep into the shelves and cabinets that filled the room from top to bottom. He waited a few moments before the requests, now rolled up, returned. They unrolled and he examined the received documents, ensuring they matched the request and were going to the correct people. He also made sure there was nothing suspicious about who was requesting what.

Satisfied, he waved his wand again and the requests rolled back up with the documents before sliding into long glass cylinders that had appeared. Once sealed, they disappeared with pops, leaving behind small slips of parchment with details for him for tracking.

He turned to his right and walked along the closest box-filled shelves to a door in the corner. He pushed through into his office, instantly moving to sit behind his messy desk. He looked across it at Alexei on the deep red sofa, his feet propped on the coffee table as he perused a few documents.

“The prophecy is activated,” Leif said.

“So is the bond,” Alexei said, floating the parchments he held over to Leif.

Leif scanned them quickly, noting the ‘In Development’ glowing green. He put the pages down with a sigh. “Dumbledore suspects a Life Bond and wants to interfere.”

“If he does?”

“Harry and Draco will lose control of their magic. Severus is their grounding point now,” Leif said. “Not to mention the pain of forced separation. It has to be by choice.”

“Do you think he will try?” Alexei asked.

Leif nodded. “He said we won’t be needed come September first.”

“Their return to Hogwarts,” Alexei said gravely, making Leif nod again. “What happens when they go back?”

“It depends on what this becomes,” Leif said, turning his gaze and drawing Alexei’s to a floating parchment that was glowing white with blue swirls. It had been there for a couple of weeks.

“What is it?” Alexei asked.

“I have a theory.”

“If you’re right?”

“Then Dumbledore won’t be able to do a thing to them.”

“Lucius,” he hissed and watched as one of many masked figures left the circle and knelt before him. He waved his wand to remove the mask and look into the man’s face. “You continue to fail me.”

“Apologies, my lord,” Lucius said, keeping his head bowed. “If I could have some more time—”

He growled and slashed his wand through the air. He watched with a snarl as Lucius writhed though, impressively, he did stay on his knees and released little more than a quiet moan of pain. He ended the curse.

“You have had nothing but time!” he yelled. “I was unaware it was so difficult to find a tracked fifteen-year-old with no place to go.”

He gazed at his Inner Circle, anger at the loss of his prized prodigy roiling inside him. He met dark eyes through another mask.

“Severus, come,” he snapped and another of his beloved Death Eaters stepped forward, standing beside Lucius.

“My lord,” Snape said, bowing his head.

“What news from the Order about Draco?” he asked. The boy got help from somewhere.

“Nothing, my lord,” Snape said.

He roared and slashed his wand at Snape. He saw the body shake violently before the man dropped to his knees. Only then did he lift the curse.

“Does Dumbledore doubt you?” he asked, ready to strike the man dead if his position as a spy had become compromised.

“No, my lord. The disappearance of Draco Malfoy has been deemed unimportant. They are assuming him Marked or dead,” Snape said.

He hummed, stroking his wand as he stared down at his two most loyal and valuable. However, as he gazed at Lucius, he wondered. The boy was gone and, if he were not found, he was unsure how much use Lucius could offer him. His position in the Ministry was tenuous these days and it was truly Draco he wanted. The boy was going to be his best aside from Snape. Draco was to be the face of the next generation of Death Eaters.

“Due to how valuable Draco is, I am giving you one last chance, Lucius,” he said.

“You are too kind, my lord,” Lucius said.

“Students return to Hogwarts in just over two weeks. If Draco shows up there, he will be out of reach, hidden behind blasted Dumbledore,” he said. “This cannot happen. Two weeks, Lucius. If you do not find Draco and bring him to me by September first, the consequences will be severe.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord,” Lucius said.

“And, Severus.” He turned to the other, quickly casting a short, but powerful Cruciatus. “If you cannot provide information from the Order about Draco or Harry Potter by September first, you will face similar consequences.”

“Understood, my lord.”

“Disappointments,” he hissed and whipped his wand at the two men, watching with satisfaction as Lucius let out a small scream as he hunched over and as Severus had to place his hands on the ground to stay up as his body trembled. However, as usual, Severus released no sound, an aspect that always impressed him.

“My lord, there is one more thing,” Lucius gasped out as he ended the curse.

“What?” he snapped, growing impatient.

“A disturbance has occurred within the Ministry, in the Department of Mysteries,” Lucius said.

“Is that so?” he drawled, intrigued. “And what was this disturbance?”

“Unclear, my lord. The Unspeakables are holding their tongues,” Lucius said.

“Then loosen them,” he hissed. “I will not lose the prophecy.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lucius said.

“You are dismissed. You had both best return with something of substance,” he said.

Both inclined their heads before getting shakily to their feet and leaving.

Harry bolted up, a scream caught in his throat. Pain was radiating through his head and his scar burning. He shook with the effects of the vision and he sobbed at what he’d done. He felt hands grasping his arms and struggled, wanting away from yet someone else he could hurt.

“Harry! Harry, it’s Alexei, you’re alright!”

He managed to recognize the voice and his eyes flew open. He found Alexei through vision blurred by tears, pain, and missing glasses. He brought his hands up to hold onto Alexei’s forearms, needing to know he was back, that he wasn’t there with the Death Eaters anymore.

“Harry, take a breath, rebenok,” Alexei said.

“S…Snape,” Harry gasped out, trying to do what Alexei said while consumed with fear over how he’d hurt the professor.

“He’s not back yet,” Alexei said, the news making Harry sob again. “Does he give you anything when you have these dreams?”

“P…Pain Reliever,” Harry said. “He…he hasn’t made the other one yet.”

He felt one of Alexei’s hands move, but couldn’t make himself release the vampire. He needed the contact and Snape wasn’t there. He was far too distraught to comprehend that he wanted Snape there. All he knew was that Snape had been there after almost every nightmare and vision, becoming a presence he’d never had before, and it was all he wanted right then.

He quickly downed the potion Alexei handed him and waited for it to take the edge off. It wouldn’t completely rid him of pain, but it would make it bearable. As it eased slightly, he released his crushing grip on Alexei’s arms and collapsed against his pillows.

“Harry?” Alexei said and he met the blue eyes, finding them full of worry.

“Th…there’s a deadline,” Harry said, breathing hard. “To…to find Malfoy. September first.”

“Your return to Hogwarts,” Alexei said.

Harry nodded. “I…I hurt him. S…Snape, I…I tortured him,” he gasped out, tears streaming down his face as he remembered seeing Snape’s pain and the joy he’d felt at causing it.

“No, no, it wasn’t you,” Alexei said. “You just saw it.”

“But it felt like me!” Harry said desperately. “What is it? Why is it happening?”

“From what I understand, it is magical compatibility and a Blood Bond,” Alexei said.

“Like me, Snape, and Malfoy?” Harry asked.

“The compatibility, yes, but it is a different kind of bond. What you three have is about protection. Voldemort used your blood to return which created the connection between you. Blood Bonds are about control,” Alexei explained.

“What does that mean for me?” Harry asked, terrified by the concept.

“This mind connection, for one,” Alexei said. “It is also possible that, if you were to come into close proximity, the bond and your magical compatibility could be used for bodily possession.”

Harry felt a ball of dread settle in his stomach.

“Your Life Bond can protect you as well against such a thing,” Alexei said. “They are opposing bonds.”

Harry said nothing, unable to accept what he’d learned. He wondered if Dumbledore knew and, if he did, why he didn’t tell Harry. He had a terrifying connection to Voldemort, but Dumbledore wasn’t helping him understand it. He shuddered as the vision returned to the forefront of his mind.

“Why does he do it?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?” Alexei asked.

“Snape. Why does he spy?”

The vampire sighed sadly. “That is for him to tell you.”

“Did you know him in the first war?”

“We met at the very end of it, not long after Voldemort’s apparent defeat.”

“Was he a spy then?”

“He had just turned, yes.”

“Why? What happened?”

“You have to ask him, rebenok. It is not my story or secret to tell.”

Anything else was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs. Harry’s eyes widened as he and Alexei listened to the heavy footsteps on the stairs. He watched Alexei go to the doorway.

“Severus, I believe Harry needs you,” the vampire said.

“He saw the meeting?” he heard Snape say and Alexei nodded. “Very well.”

Alexei stepped to the side, allowing Snape to enter, before giving Harry a small smile and leaving the room. Harry watched as Snape walked over, taking Alexei’s spot on the edge of the bed and beside Harry’s legs. Staring at the man, Harry could hardly tell anything had happened, but he could see small lines of strain in Snape’s face.

“Have you had a potion?” Snape asked quietly.

Harry nodded. “Alexei gave me one.”

“Is your scar still hurting?” Snape asked, grasping Harry’s chin unexpectedly to tilt his head up and better examine the scar.

“It’s not so bad,” Harry said even though it felt like hot coals were sitting on his forehead.

Snape waved his hand and a cloth appeared. He folded it and draped it across Harry’s forehead. The chilled material surprised Harry, but made him sigh at the slight relief it provided.

“Professor, I…I’m sorry,” Harry said after relishing the cloth for a moment. “I didn’t mean to hurt—”

“Enough, Potter, it wasn’t you,” Snape interrupted.

“But—”

“I was there, and it was not you I saw, it was the Dark Lord,” Snape said firmly. “I understand what you feel during these visions, but you are just an observer. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. “What’s going to happen now? With Malfoy. The deadline.”

“Nothing,” Snape said simply. “Mr. Malfoy will be staying right here and then we will be returning to Hogwarts on the first.”

“But what about you?” Harry said with a frown. “Voldemort said—”

“Do not concern yourself with that,” Snape said. “I will manage.”

Harry’s frown deepened at Snape’s lack of concern for himself and dismissal of Harry’s worry. Did the man not care for his own safety, his own life? Did he not want Harry to worry about any of it because everything would go back to how it used to be like he’d heard Dumbledore imply? What would cause Snape to be willing to take such risks and be so alone?

Snape held his chin again as he removed the cloth to examine the scar again. After just a couple of seconds, the cloth was reapplied and his chin released.

“Sir, why did you become a spy?” Harry asked, taking a chance.

Snape looked at him sharply and Harry was almost positive the man wouldn’t answer based on that look. He was pleasantly surprised to be wrong. “To fix a mistake I made.”

Get what redemption you can, Dumbledore’s words floated through Harry’s head.

“Becoming a Death Eater?” Harry said.

“Among others,” Snape said vaguely.

“My mother?” Harry ventured carefully, managing not to cringe at the anger that filled the professor’s face.

“Black has been regaling you with stories of our youth, I presume?” Snape said, his tone harsh.

“Not really, more mentions in passing,” Harry said, hoping to stop Snape from getting too angry. “He said you were friends with her, but then something happened.”

“We had a…falling out and we went our separate ways,” Snape said, once again keeping his words and tone vague, distant.

“Is that why you became a spy, because of her?” Harry asked, knowing he was likely pushing too much, but wanting to know. He wanted to understand.

“I caused her harm in various ways,” Snape said. “It was sometime after the falling out that I switched sides.”

“What happened?” Harry asked. “It had to have been awful if you’re willing to risk your life like this.”

“It is my job, Potter. I do what I must,” Snape said, clearly done with the topic. “That is enough now. You need to get some rest.”

“Sir—”

“Quiet,” Snape said and he removed the cloth. Harry was startled when the man’s hand returned, brushing across his forehead as though brushing back his hair. “Sleep, child.”

“Will you tell me what happened?” Harry asked, the touch lulling him to sleep.

“Maybe one day,” Snape said, his tone strange.

Harry felt another brush through his hair before the weight on the bed disappeared and he heard his bedroom door quietly click as it closed. With the ghost of Snape’s unusual affection, Harry drifted off to sleep.