Brothers by JustJeanette
Summary: Updated 15rd Aug 2006. Chapter 13 added. And finally a potion is actually discussed....  Severus Snape has a secret and that secret could mean victory or defeat for the Order of the Phoenix. What has it to do with Harry?
Categories: Misc > All written in Snape's POV, Misc Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Hermione, Original Character
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Supernatural, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: None
Warnings: Torture
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 13 Completed: No Word count: 67089 Read: 37488 Published: 28 Feb 2005 Updated: 15 Aug 2006
Chapter 12 Memories by JustJeanette
Author's Notes:
*Anti-litigation charm: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe to her we bow. Warner Brothers and Various Publishers also have their own rights. We are just playing in their backyard and we promise to clean up when we have finished.

To those who have read and enjoyed, I hope you continue to do so. I have read every review with pleasure.

Please forgive my delays but, longtime no write, PhD keeps me up all night.

Now on with the story:

Enjoy all.

"He comes, beloved," the Lady whispered into Severus' ear before looking up and including Alastor in the conversation. "Remember what you've seen, Alastor Moody," she continued in a warning tone, "and do not interfere with my paramour."

Alastor still in shock at what he'd seen and the general implications just nodded his head as he watched the Lady and the lake fade from view. "What are you going to do now, Severus?" Alastor finally asked in an awed whisper as they walked back towards the Manor, and the waiting Headmaster.

"Sleep," Severus replied.

"And the Order meeting?" Alastor demanded, curious to see how Severus would react to the idea that an Order meeting was called though he had not been informed.

Severus just rolled his eyes at Alastor's rather obvious enquiry. "I'll leave that for you to deal with. As you have just seen, we have a rather powerful ally, one the Order must never know of."

'Heed me well, Alastor Moody, I may be perceived as capricious, but I have a vested interest in my Avatars survival, and I will brook no interference from anyone.' Alastor stared dumbstruck as the timbre and pitch of Severus' voice changed midstream, three voices echoing in his mind.

Severus shook his head as if to clear it, and continued as if nothing had happened. "I expect Albus will try and work out where else I could have hidden the bodies--after all, the children are still missing. Anyway we had better repair to the Manor, I'm not keen on Albus wanting to explore the grounds again."

Alastor silently agreed. He decided it was in his best interest to 'forget' the last few minutes, and was rewarded with a faint kiss and a giggle.

Though he could easily understand Severus' concerns. Albus, that is to say the Order, hadn't found anything, but it would unwise to arouse any further suspicions. Given the way Albus had spoken with him earlier in the day, Alastor believed it would take very little to cause the headmaster to begin the search all over again; this time without the Ministry's tacit approval. "Albus told everyone to return to Hogwarts, you, I and Albus are the only people left at the manor," Alastor commented as he and Severus made there way back to the main entrance. "A meeting of the Order is to be held at Hogwarts, Albus was loath to the leave the school 'unguarded' for too long."

"Understandable, though I suspect it is me that he would be loath to leave 'unguarded'," Severus commented dryly, a faint smirk on his lips.

In a timely fashion, the two men entered the foyer as Albus appeared from the library. The older man looked tired and worn down, the stresses of the last two days beginning to show. 'Welcome to my world', Severus snarled silently, though he wisely made no indication of his displeasure at the wanton intrusion into his life.

"Satisfied?" Alastor looked sharply at Severus as he queried Albus, but wisely kept his counsel. He had a mere glimmer of an understanding of what stresses Severus was under, and he was actually amazed at the Potion Master's restraint. It was truly amazing how much venom one could instil in a single word if one tried. Severus didn't just try.

Albus, his thoughts still centred on the apparently insane house elf that he'd left dancing in the library, barely acknowledged Severus' comment. If, his Potion's Master had in fact had anything to do with the disappearance of children, he had obviously not brought them here, not given the state Jaidy was in. Still, that left the question of their location unanswered. "We're going to have to broaden our search it seems," Albus finally commented as he walked silently with the other men towards the edge of the property.

Severus, weariness chilling him to the bone, ignored the presence of the other two as he re-instated the wards about the manor, careful to show no signs of 'over-warding'; after all the Manor was empty. As his energies weakened he felt the Lady strengthen him, and he almost staggered at the sheer power his Mistress channelled through him.

"Any suggestions on where else the children might me?" Albus asked in the middle of the warding, hoping vainly to catch his Potions Master out.

Without missing a beat Severus answered as he felt the wards take hold. He managed to stay on his feet and shot a look of pure loathing at his 'friend'. Sometimes it was difficult to distinguish between Dumbledore and Voldemort. Both were manipulative pricks of the first order. "If Voldemort has them, he'll tell us when he's ready and not before. The fact that they have not as yet been 'ransomed' already suggests he has other plans for them."

"So you believe they are still alive?"

"What good would come of killing them, Headmaster?" Severus said in reply. "Live bait always catches more fish after all."

Dumbledore looked sorrowfully at his Potion Master, "I'll expect you back at Hogwarts immediately," he said, before apparating away with Alastor.

Severus thanked the Lady, as Dumbledore leaving before watching his apparate out had to be the result of her interference. He was rewarded with a snarky comment that would have done him proud before the Lady withdrew. He gathered the reserves that had been granted and stalked towards the safety of the Manor. He shot a wane smile to a triumphant Jaidy before staggering up to his bed, oblivion reaching him in short order. He fought sleep briefly before a prim voice told him "Stop that," and, as usual, he bowed to the Lady's superior wisdom.


Hermione was finding it hard to hide her disappointment. Surely someone would have seen them in the painting; after all they were literally right in front of everyone's noses. Still, as Aurors, members of the Order, and even Harry and Ron came and went, verifying that room after room was empty, she began to lose hope.

Once or twice she had been tempted to draw attention to the painting but a warning glance from Brendan, and for that matter the Admiral's, suggested that such an actions would not be a good idea. The fact was that the sword being passed back and forth looked sharp and both men looked like they not only knew how to use it, but they also wouldn't hesitate to use it, was enough to overcome even her Gryffindor tendencies.

In the end, the only interesting thing to happen was Jaidy's little song and dance routine and watching that only aroused Hermione's pity. Jaidy obviously had the measure of the Headmaster and was taking great delight in tying him into proverbial knots. Noting the Headmaster sequester a small volume in amongst the bookshelves did little to raise any hope of discovery in her breast. What she'd seen so far indicated the presence of any spying devices would not discomfort the Manor's inhabitants.

When the Manor finally quieted down, Hermione turned to her companions in imprisonment and asked when they were to be released.

"That is likely to depend on when Severus can extricate himself safely from Hogwarts," Brendan replied. "Jaidy will only release us in the case of a major emergency, otherwise I expect we will be here for a while."

"What!"

"Miss Granger," it was Admiral De Winter that addressed her, "surely you can see that until Mister Severus resets the household wards and removes any 'unwanted devices', it might well be dangerous for you to be out and about. I rather suspect that the Auror's would also have left behind one or two alarm devices as well on the off chance that what they saw today was not all there was to be see; I know I would if I had been in his place.

"Whilst we saw the device that Dumbledore left, that is not likely to be the only one. Master Severus is not one to take any chances with other peoples safety, so you can be certain until he is assured of the safety of the grounds he will prefer you and your companions to remain in the portrait world."

"But..."

"Miss Granger," Brendan interrupted anticipating her next comments. "The painting acts as a form of stasis field, we won't need to eat whilst in here but we can move about the Manor through the paintings network. There is a painting in the Grand Hall of the Library of Alexandra," he continued, "Severus rather thought you might find it interesting."

'Find it interesting,' Brendan mused to himself remembering Severus' exact words. 'When Miss Granger becomes bored, point her to the Alexandrian portrait; that ought to keep her quiet for a week or more.'

'A week or more?'

'I suspect that Albus is going to be keeping a very sharp eye on me for the near future,' Severus had said with a sigh. 'I'm going to have enough fun just getting to the Forbidden Forest without trying to leave Hogwarts grounds.'

'You could tell him,' Brendan had counselled again, knowing it was futile, but for some obscure reason thinking about why he held his secrets close tended to cheer Severus up; probably the Slytherin in him.

Well aware of Brendan's motives, Severus had just smiled and allowed himself to be distracted.

The mention of a Portrait of the Library of Alexandria was met with exactly the expected response, Hermione literally pushing Brendan to show her the way.


An indeterminate period of time later, Severus woke with a start, throwing the covers of the bed of wildly, cursing his weakness. Sleep was a luxury he would embrace when he was dead. He was bowled over by a power beyond imagining, and was given a stern lecture as it was explained to him, in words of one syllable or less, exactly what the Lady thought of his maudlin thoughts. He was reminded that he could have all the time in the world, and was shoved under the shower by an unseen force. Hands soaped and massaged his abused body, and he abandoned himself to his lover's caresses. He was rudely awoken by a spray of ice-cold water as the Lady deemed him now recovered, and he was left to make himself presentable to the masses of Hogwarts. He didn't bother checking the portrait before Apparating directly to his private study in the dungeon. He checked the time and he noted that he was barely five minutes behind the Headmaster. Schooling his expression to his trademark sneer, he turned his thought to more important matters.

Whilst the Order was busy probably discussing him, he planned to use the time to have a much needed dialogue with the two vipers now at resident in the serpent's nest. It was with great interest that he watched Draco and Pansy as they walked into his private study; the contrast was interesting. Pansy was the picture of nonchalance, sure in her right to enter the private domain of Professor Snape as she possibly imagined herself being called to perform even greater tasks for the their Lord. Draco, on the other hand, walked in like a Slytherin aware of a death sentence hanging overhead; nothing overt, in fact if he hadn't been the boy's Godfather and therefore very well acquainted with him, Severus wouldn't have noticed a thing wrong, but something was troubling the boy.

"Miss Parkinson, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said as he indicated two chairs pulled up beside the fire place, "be seated." The later comment wasn't really an invitation.

Silently Severus took the seat opposite the two 'no longer young and innocent' Slytherins. He sat quietly, observing them, waiting to see who would speak first, and more importantly, what they would say.

Draco, well versed in his Godfather's methods, was well aware of what Professor Snape was waiting for; he wouldn't speak unless he was spoken to and even then he'd watch his tongue. Pansy however, still high on the euphoria of the weekend's revel was not so wise.

"Professor," she asked after only five minutes, "when do you think Lord Voldemort will call on us again?"

"That, I suspect depends upon you, Miss Parkinson," Severus began to say conversationally. He rather enjoyed watching the young bitch begin to preen; it was always fun to pull the rug out from under those who truly deserved it. "Have you other targets in mind? Perhaps Mr. Potter himself?"

"I tried, Sir, but he wasn't in class." Pansy began to justify what she thought of as an absolute failure. If she'd managed to bring in Harry Potter she would have been granted the highest of favors amongst the Death Eaters.

"Did you honestly expect to succeed where others have failed?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied bluntly, looking at him as though she believed he had failed in his duty to their Lord and Master.

"Then clearly you were not thinking, not really acceptable behavior for a Slytherin. Mr. Potter has a great many protections layered upon him whilst he is resident at Hogwarts, protections that prevent his 'enforced' removal." Severus sneered at her with malice, "He has to be lured out from under the wards."

"But we were able to easily stupefy Granger and those first years'," Pansy said expansively including Draco in her royal 'we'. "It was no trouble to drag them out past the wards."

'So he hasn't breached the wards', Severus thought to himself with satisfaction as Pansy went on to explain how ridiculously easy it had been to kidnap Granger and company. He let her rabbit on whilst he watched his Godson. Whenever Parkinson made some disparaging remark about the 'first years', as though they were of no import, Draco would flinch minutely.

"... did you see the look of fear that graced the Gryffindor table yesterday," Pansy was still rattling on enjoying her fifteen minutes of fame, "and to think we caused that. I rather enjoyed Weasley's reaction when I asked if he'd misplaced his 'dirty little girlfriend'."

"Ah yes Miss Parkinson, thank you for the reminder. The reason I wished to speak is related to your actions yesterday," Severus said finally interrupting the flow. "Your actions Miss Parkinson were so lacking in subtly that whilst all members of the faculty were questioned about the disappearances, it seems that the Ministry believed that House Slytherin, and as a result myself, were aware of the disappearances well in advance of them actually being announced. Furthermore, they concluded that my property required searching." His silky voice dripped venom and distain at the incompetence of the so-called Slytherin before him. Pansy Parkinson quailed at the malice directed at her, but managed to grimly look her Head of School in the eye. Severus watched her blanch as she processed his comments. They weren't the whole truth but she wasn't to know that, and her behavior had been less than subtle. He was a little disconcerted that she wasn't completely cowed, noting that Parkinson would have to be dealt with sooner or later.

"Did they find anything, Sir?" Draco finally spoke.

"There was nothing left to find," Severus answered with a tight smile. 'Make of that what you will'. It seemed both children did make something of his statement, Pansy smiled viciously while Draco looked merely ill.

"Need I remind you both that if it is discovered you have taken the Dark Mark, expulsion is likely to be the least of your worries," Severus stated with a finality that suggested 'he' would be their biggest problem. "Return to your dormitories and I suggest that in future you be a little more circumspect."

Severus watched then leave, Pansy leading the way though she was clearly worried now as his warning finally permeated her brain. "Legimens," Severus whispered softly, as Draco went to step out of his study.

"Not until you are twelve, Draco," his mother was saying as he asked again when he'd be allowed down to the lake without parents or some other adult in tow.

"But..." he'd started to whine as his Godfather had walked in the room.

"Dragon," Severus Snape said as he cast a quick glace at Narcissa asking her approval to interfere, "just because people like the Weasley's let there brood swim in the river unsupervised does not mean your parents should. After all, your parents, unlike the Weasley's are not praying that one or two brats accidentally drown themselves." Severus finished in a quelling tone.

The idea that he could be compared to the Weasley's worked and Draco submitted without further protest to having his father accompany him for his swim.

* * * * * *

He was twelve, finally. The Malfoy's and all their sundry connections, Severus Snape, the Drays, the un-incarcerated Le Stranges, Goyles, Crabbes and all other Death Eater families, had all gathered to celebrate the occasion in typical Malfoy Style. He was thoroughly enjoying being feted; he was a Slytherin like all his forebears; his Godfather, whom he was closer to than his father, was his House Head, and after today, he was permitted free reign to indulge his passion for water sports without waiting for an adult to be free.

Draco had taken a flying leap from the lake's jetty before gracefully diving beneath the cool blue surface. Years of lessons and practice had come together and he swam confidently through the depths. He'd been enjoying the solitary right of passage for less than ten minutes when the silence was broken by another splash. Surfacing, ready to tear strips off of whichever adult had followed him down to the lake, Draco was confronted by the sight of Andrew Dray slipping beneath the surface of the lake.

Andrew, who had fallen in awe of his elder cousin from the very first, had failed to lose the even one ounce of that adoration as the years had passed; at eight he still followed Draco about hoping to gain his notice, today he finally succeeded. He'd followed Draco down to the lake and had watched with delight as the blonde headed boy had dove off the jetty barely causing a ripple as he'd disappeared beneath the waves; think it looked so easy, the younger boy had followed his idol's example with a stunning lack of success. The Malfoy lake wasn't the safe pool at home, the lake was wild, deep, and the home a many and varied species of plants, including the strangleweed patch which the youngster landed amid.

Draco reacted instinctively with a level of bravery that would have surprised certain Gryffindors but strangleweed didn't offer second chances. Taking a deep breath, he dove downward following the faint trail of bubbles Andrew's struggles created. With his lungs screaming in protest and his head becoming dizzy from the lack of oxygen, Draco made one last push to reach his cousin. Sending a quick prayer to Merlin, Draco grabbed the floating ponytail of hair that Andrew sported and pulled.

Whether it was luck, or the fact that the weed recognized him as a Malfoy Draco could not say, but the weed released its hold on Andrew. The boy was limp in his grasp as he swam towards the surface and in the end it was only Draco's strength that got the boys to shore; Andrew remained unconscious. Lessons in water safety took over and whilst he would have been horrified to know that he used the same techniques Muggles used Draco quickly and effectively checked his cousin's airways before beginning assisted breathing thanking any deity that listened for the erratic pulse he had found. It was that way that frantic adults finally found them.

"Your cousin owes you his life Draco," Lucius had said as a warm towel had been placed about his son's shoulders. "I'm very proud of you." It was the first time his father had ever admitted pride in his son.

* * * * * *

Andrew, tied to a stone altar, as Draco raised his wand to curse...

* * * * * *

That night Severus used what he'd learnt to construct the first of the dreams that were to haunt Draco Malfoy, waking or sleeping. He had to tread very, very carefully, but he was pleased with the initial results. For so long, he had watched his godson make the same mistakes he had made, and he could do nothing... NOTHING. It had gnawed at him for the last five years, seeing Draco being moulded into a more twisted version of Lucius, but it looked like Draco was NOT his father, and for that, Severus was eternally grateful. He knew what had to be done to Lucius, and if the same had to be done to his son, it would have destroyed Severus, Lady or no Lady. He allowed himself a small celebratory shot of fire whisky before embracing the sleep of the just.


Hermione followed very close on Brendan's heels, nearly tripping him on occasion, as he led her into the painting in the Grand Hall. "Welcome to Alexandria," he said with a sweeping gesture as they stepped out into the edge of the painting.

The scene they stood in was a streetscape looking down Canopic Street from the Gate of the Moon towards Cleopatra's Needle, the Great Library visible beyond the obelisk. Priests, Priestesses, commoners and slaves went about their business oblivious to the two strangely dressed intruders. Overwhelmed by the sudden heat, Hermione was after all still dressed for the sea, the pair were forced to stop and sit; the steps of the Athenaeum beckoned.

"Greetings, fellow travellers," a lady in a mask said as she bowed before them, "the high Priestess said you would need welcome. Come, we have cool water inside."

Hermione looked at Brendan as if to ask was it usual to be accosted by inhabitants of the portraits of Snape Manor. Brendan however looked slightly worried given exactly which temple's steps he and Miss Granger were seated on; a worry that was soon to be justified. Instead of answering Hermione's unspoken question he got up and followed the retreating Priestess inside. "Miss Granger," he commanded when he saw that she remained seated. Hermione shot Brendan a startled look as she hurried to catch up.

The masked priestess led Brendan and Hermione inside the surprisingly cool building. They walked through the main atrium, its roof lost in mists above them, the hall lined with statues of the Goddess in various forms and incarnations: The Hunter, the Virgin, the Mother, the Crone, Death with a marble sheet obscuring the whole body and Life, wreathed in passionflowers. The priestess named them all: Isis, Bast, Kali, Diana, Kore, Ishtar, Athena, Anath, an innumerable multitude representing all aspects of the Lady. The corridor seemed to stretch for an eternity, but neither Brendan or Hermione were fatigued. Eventually, they were led into a spartanly furnished antechamber; a table, two chairs, a couch, and a small altar the rooms only contents.

"Come, drink and be refreshed," said the priestess as she poured sparkling clear water into two golden chalices, "you are very welcome here." Hermione could have sworn that the jug was empty, but Brendan seemed to accept the impossible with alacrity.

"Thank you," Brendan said; bowing, he raised the chalice to his lips and drank deeply of the water. The soft touch of benediction brushed against his mind as he heard a deep, melodious voice whisper to him alone. "Rest now, Brendan, your strength will be needed soon."

Hermione watched in undisguised horror as Brendan collapsed into a boneless heap on the ground. Transfixed, she watched the slightly built Priestess bend to lift and carry Brendan, as though he were but a child, to the couch where she lay him down and brushed a kiss across his forehead. The childlike Priestess then turned to face Hermione and as the mask dissolved away, Hermione felt herself falling into the abyss.

"Child, I wish to ask a boon of you," a voice as soft as silk, hard as steel, and sharp as a monofilament blade echoed through the darkness. Light flowed from the words and Hermione saw she was standing in the Lady's temple garbed again in the white supplicant robes that she had worn the night her moon-blood was taken; the blood's stain still visible above her womb.

"Oblivion seeks to destroy the tapestry and Our Priest is in greater danger than we thought." The statue separated and all three aspects of the Lady stood before Hermione.

"Oblivion?" Hermione asked.

"It is the closest word we have, that you would understand, to describe our antithesis. It is what we fight, the void that is no life." The Mother spoke gently.

"You mean the devil?" Hermione asked seeking understanding in terms of her religious upbringing.

"Not quite, though that is one of the phrases mankind has used to label the Oblivion. It is the other end of the spectrum of the tapestry of life that people weave through their daily choices. It is Oblivion , Nothingness, Sea, Czernobog, Ariman, Seth, Kaos, Tiamat... He has as many names as there are aspects of me."

"But I thought you did the weaving, fate and all?" Hermione queried. After all wasn't her best friend the subject of prophecy, hadn't the Lady already stated that Her Priest was endangered implying that fates were fixed?

"Yes child, we weave upon the draw loom of life," the Crone answered as her scissors flashed in the air, "but the pattern is not of our making. We set the weft and the warp of the tapestry, but it is the mortals whose choices are the shuttles that pass the threads back and forth.

"There is a broad pattern to which we strive just as the Oblivion has its own goals. It's through the free will of our Avatars, like Severus that are our 'draw boys' that we create the brocading patterns; they pull the strings and assist the threads to interweave themselves into ever-more-beautiful patterns. Chaos as always, strives to break this pattern."

"Then what is the difference between your Avatars and us mere mortals?" Hermione asked pointedly, "Don't we all have free will?"

"But not always knowledge," was the Virgin's answer. "You think that you know where your choices will take you, but are you always right?"

"Our Avatars exercise their free will with the full knowledge of what their choices mean," continued the Mother.

"They see all the ripples that the stone makes; all of them," finished the Crone. "It is that which makes them Ours."

"Then what is my role in this?" Hermione asked still bewildered as her mind tried to make sense of the Fates not being fate. She was rather annoyed to see the Crone smile as though she were reading her mind, which in this case the Crone was actively doing.

"Oblivion will seek to prove that our Avatar lied," The Virgin spoke again as the other two aspects faded into the background. It was her role to ask for the boon, it was her role to accept that she must seek to sever the ties that currently bound her to Hermione; she would seek to gift the Warrior with a Hermione grown.

"Lied? From what I can tell, that is all Professor Snape has done," Hermione commented sarcastically.

"But there are lies, and damned lies, child. The Oblivion seeks to use a damned lie; that your moon blood was tainted to unseat our Priest."

"Can't you just 'taint' it?" Hermione had to ask, worried that she knew where this conversation was heading.

"We can, but not in a way that would save what you have given. So we ask a boon of you, a boon and a doom."

"Doom?" Hermione squeaked. She was not pleased to note she sounded like Ron Weasley for a second.

"We ask, but we will ask granting you full knowledge of what your choice will mean, that is the doom we will place on you." As she spoke, the Virgin began to glow; incandescent light reached out to touch Hermione and as the light enveloped the child she saw:

Myriad pasts; faint shadows of might-have-beens, strong echoes of events that she now 'remembered', all fanned out behind her. The threads of the tapestry tight and well formed. Before her she saw the futures, some remote, other very clear:

Professor Snape surrounded by children...

Stonehenge, the stones broken and scattered...

Draco Malfoy, bound and gagged, kneeling before Lord Voldemort as his father cast the killing curse.

"You lied, Severus," Voldemort screamed as he raised his wand, "Avada Kedavra!"

"Damn," she muttered as she felt the insides of her brain reach critical mass, nobody had told her that enlightenment would hurt so much. Yet even as she slipped into unconsciousness, her brain focused on the last scene. Why was it that when she saw the curse strike her Professor, the tapestry, so carefully woven, disintegrated before her eyes?

"Rest Child, we will speak again soon," the Virgin said as she lay Hermione down upon silken sheets.


Alastor Moody was not a happy man. The Order of the Phoenix, minus Professor Snape, was meeting in Dumbledore's office and the general topic of conversation was "Snape Bashing" with a side order of premeditated murder thrown in.

"You shouldn't have let him go this morning Albus," Sirius was saying. "That gave him plenty of time to remove any incriminating evidence from the Snape Manor."

Dumbledore rolled his eyes, though he secretly agreed with Black. "Severus had been summoned Sirius, what was I supposed to do?"

"We only have his word that he was summoned. Since when had the Dark Lord summoned anyone on a Sunday Morning?"

"Actually we don't know," Alastor finally spoke up. The last hour the Order members had gone over the same ground so many times almost no one remembered that the original topic was 'what to do now'. "In fact we don't know a lot of things, like when normally Voldemort calls his servants or what has happened to Misters Smithson, Dray and Miss Granger."

"We know perfectly well what happened to the children, Moody," Sirius growled in anger; what the hell was Alastor doing defending the greasy-git. "Harry saw them bound, gagged and handed over to Snape."

"I would have thought, Black, that you of all people would rather not jump to conclusions based solely on what someone said they saw," Alastor replied. "We have NO EVIDENCE to back up Harry's claims.

In fact, Mr. Black," Alastor ground out in a tone that indicated everyone should be paying attention, "what we do have, thanks to your allegations and the speed on which we acted on them, is an Auror Office that is less than pleased to have been used in a manner they see as being used as a tool of malice. Nothing was found, Sirius, nothing to indicate that Professor Snape had anything to do with the children's disappearance.

"I questioned Professor Snape, personally. He said he didn't kill the children. The Ministry found no signs of a revel anywhere near the Potter's graves. And we have spent two days chasing after red herrings. Masters was not pleased." Alastor finally finished; the anger in his voice was very real, after all he'd had Masters yelling at him after they'd left Snape Manor. Of course the fact that he'd have been siding with Black under normal circumstances didn't help Alastor's temper but today had definitely proven they were not operating under normal circumstances.

"So what do you suggest we do now, Moody?" Dumbledore asked into the uncomfortable silence that descended after Alastor's tirade.

"I suggest we ask Masters to organise the searching of all staff residences, as well as a thorough search of Hogsmeade and the surrounds."

"What!" chorused the Order Members before everything degraded into a babble of "I didn't do it's", "how can you even think that's", and "how dare you." Funnily enough it failed to occur to anyone that their own loathing of the implied distrust and the invasion of privacy were acceptable emotions for Severus to have felt.

"Alastor, would you ask Masters if that could be arranged?" Dumbledore said quietly as he ignored the general round of protests. At least this way they could be seen to be doing something whilst he waited for his sentinel devices to provide the actual evidence they required.

"Are you sure, Albus?"

"It is that or we admit to ourselves that we no longer trust Severus, and whilst I'm no longer sure of him I'm not yet willing to cut that last tie," Dumbledore replied in all seriousness. "If we are seen to do nothing else we still signal that we believe it was Professor Snape who orchestrated the abductions. This way, if he didn't we might yet find the culprits," Dumbledore's tone indicated quite clearly what he thought about that likelihood, "and if Snape did, well he might just drop his guard enough to let us catch him." If Severus was no longer theirs then they had a viper in their midst, but, and it was that but that held Albus from the final break, if things really were not as they seemed. Anyway a known spy was better than an unknown spy.

"Alright Albus. When do you want these searches to take place?"

"As soon as possible, Alastor," Dumbledore replied wearily. On occasions, the Headmaster felt all of his years, and this was definitely one of them


Hermione woke, her head still throbbing as a result of all the images that had crashed through her mind. "Why?" she asked before she was even cognizant of speaking.

"He will die because he has lied," the Virgin answered her.

"Because he'd lied?" Hermione couldn't keep the incredulous note from her voice if she'd tried. "He's a spy, of course he's lied," she said with a touch of exasperation.

"Severus has never lied to Tom Riddle. He may never have told the whole truth, but he has never lied. It is for that reason he lives where others have failed but this time he has had to lie and that lie will kill him unless..."

Even if Hermione had not been labeled as 'the brightest witch of her generation' she would have recognized the danger that the word "unless" represented; still she was a Gryffindor and so she asked knowing she would not like the answer. "Unless?"

"He told Tom that your moon-blood was 'tainted', implying that it would not be very useful as the basis of any potion, but Tom will find a use for it, a use we would not normally allow but it will weaken him in ways he cannot see," the Virgin said sadly.

"Then we taint the sample," Hermione said as though the deity should have been able to work that out for herself after all it was logical.

"Yes child, we need a 'tainted' sample."

The sorrow in the Virgin's eyes said more than words, tainting the moon-blood appeared to be somewhat more difficult that Hermione thought. "Ummmm?"

"The moon-blood of a virgin is very different to that of a woman sown and in truth it is not a 'taint' but the mark of passage; one that you have not yet take."

The implication was unfortunately very clear. Professor Snape was going to have to provided Voldemort with moon-blood from a non-virginal Hermione or, and it was the 'or' that was the problem, the tapestry would fail. "The choice is mine, isn't it?" she asked.

"As always, and one other's," the Virgin said gently, "but it is my 'passing' that you must celebrate, and it is my Glory that you would wear, and you will be blessed, but it is still your choice; one you must make and one we grant you the right to make with full knowledge."

Hermione Granger, the girl who had to know, was suddenly wishing that she only had a little knowledge. With a little knowledge the choice clear cut and simple, without those blinkers, the choice was not a choice but a burden. 'Is this what Professor Snape feels like?' she asked herself.

"Yes child," the Virgin answered her unspoken question, "many are the times he has had to do things he would not but for the greater good. To be mine, body and soul for eternity and beyond is not an easy task. Have you not grasped the fact that Severus is merely the latest aspect?"

"When?" She would not ask who, not yet.

"When the year dies and Avalon needs to be replenished. Your blood will be the sacrifice and the land will live."

As she placed her hands upon Hermione's brow, the Virgin willed away the cloth that covered the girl, leaving her standing naked in the temple's centre. Stepping back, the Virgin melded into the Lady and the Crone and the three as one walked around Hermione inducting her into their care.

"Thought: Our Lore we mark upon you." A kiss placed on the top of Hermione's head.
"Light: Our Sight we mark upon you." A kiss placed at the centre of Hermione's forehead.
"Sound: Our Voice we mark upon you." A kiss placed at Hermione's throat.
"Air: Our Love we mark upon you." A kiss placed at Hermione's heart.
"Fire: Our Power we mark upon you." A kiss placed over Hermione's sternum.
"Water: Our Heat we mark upon you." A loving and tender kiss placed at above Hermione's womb.
"Earth: Our Life we mark upon you." The last kiss was placed at the base of Hermione's spine and sealed her to the Goddess.

One last circuit the Lady walked and as she walked jewels, Dark Amethyst, Sapphire, Lapis Lazuli, Emerald, Amber, Fire Opal, and Ruby appeared and embedded themselves at the points where the Lady had kissed.

"Thou art mine," the Lady said as Hermione collapsed, 'and you will be His," echoed in the recesses of the Lady's/Hermione's mind.


Monday morning dawned bright and clear which made up for the long, tired and in some cases extremely stressed faces that dotted the great hall. No demands had been made; no threats received and the fact that the search of Snape manor had revealed nothing had travelled through the school like wild fire; the fact that only Snape manor had been searched followed hard on the tails of the first story and speculation was now running rampant through the student population.

Dumbledore in his infinite wisdom attempted to quell any rumours concerning Professor Snape and the disappearance of the three Gryffindors in a manner similar to that employed by Dolores Umbridge when she attempted to quash 'The Quibbler's story'; his attempt was just as successful hers and the result was by midday students were fainting in terror at the very sight of Professor Snape. Madam Pomfrey was swamped with students suffering all manner of ills though the underlying cause was attempting to get out of attending Potions' classes. Only the Slytherin students attended any Potion classes that day.

By Monday's end Severus was just about ready to submit to an extended session of Cruciatus; he'd survived the weekend only to have to put up with what he felt was a completely unslytherinistic approach in subtlety from Miss Parkinson, the only saving grace was she confined her efforts to the Slytherin Tower, but as Severus was well aware the walls have ears. Add the rumours fast churning through Hogwarts; the knowledge that until he could 'safely' return to the Manor, Brendan and company were trapped in a portrait; and the fact that two senior Aurors, both of whom had been present at the manor search, were now missing and it was surprising that Severus hadn't hexed all and sundry to Hades and back. Instead he had calmly gone about his teaching duties, deducting 50 points per class per student who failed to attend whilst showing no outward concern about the events of the weekend. The week was to continue in much the same vein; nothing was heard or seen of the missing children.


Friday morning, a week after the disappearance of the three Gryffindors, and Hogwarts gathered to remember them. The Quidditch field had been transformed, the stands enlarged to accommodate the entire student body of Hogwarts with a fifth tower added to accommodate friends and family of the missing children. The staff, with the exception of Professor Snape, was seated on a podium erected in the middle of the field. Professor Snape, still on 'sabbatical', stood at the base of the Slytherin Tower, his eyes hooded and his expression blank.

Albus Dumbledore looked out the gathering of students and other visitors, including the Muggle parents of Hermione Granger. His eyes were dark and troubled, no sign of his habitual twinkle showing. "We are gathered together to pray for the safety of Hermione Granger, Henry Smithson and Andrew Dray, taken from our midst by the foulest of cowards." Dumbledore's eyes strayed to focus on Professor Snape, promising justice. "The purity of their blood was not an issue; terror was the issue and it is that which we must fight. Voldemort is not dead." He ignored the collective gasps as he named He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "His followers are not dead," and this time his gazed fixed on the Slytherin tower and the dark Professor at its base.

Before Dumbledore could continue, a shocked murmur rippled through the gathered throng. The Gryffindors were the first to see the figures walking towards the pitch from the castle, their collective joy soon overshadowed as an orange streak, hissing and snarling, leapt from the stand and raced across the Quidditch field directing all eyes to what was causing the commotion. The answer was not long forthcoming. Crookshanks, fur bristled, anger in every line of his feline body backed away as Hermione Granger, walking like automaton, and a badly programmed one at that, led Henry Smithson and Andrew Dray into the pitch area. The trio strode with jerky, spasmodic movements towards the podium on which the staff were gathered. Hermione, her head twitching badly, approached Dumbledore, a black parchment in her hand.

Dumbledore, having observed Crookshanks' reaction, signalled the staff to remain where they were, casually casting a binding spell towards the Gryffindor Stand freezing Harry and Ron in place. The Headmaster stepped forward and took the parchment from the girl.

"See my works and glory in them," Voldemort's voice howled out loudly and clearly throughout the Quidditch arena. The automatons turned as one and bowed, in a parody of courtly grace, towards the stands. "My hand can reach wherever I want it to; it can take whatever I want; it can kill whomever I want." As the words died away, the three automatons collapsed where they stood, disintegrating to dust, leaving only Hermione Granger's scalp with its long hair blowing gently in the breeze.

To be continued...
End Notes:
Love JustJeanette and Desmond without whom this story would not be as good.

References used

www.marlamallett.com/obi.htm
www.iloveulove.com/spirituality/hindu/chakratantra.htm
www.crystal-cure.com/chakra.html

Special thanks to Jaded Colonel :) Hope you continue to enjoy



This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=591