Severus’ heart went cold. Death Eaters.

Oh God, it’s happening again. I knew the Mark seemed different, I just knew it! Severus insides writhed in barely concealed panic. I can’t go back to the Dark Lord, I’m not ready! I’ll never be ready! Oh Merlin, no, please!

Though Severus had been careful to be openly biased in favour of his old colleagues’ children in class, it didn’t nearly begin to make up for the fact that Severus had been largely out of touch with the others for many, many years. That they had not invited him on their latest escapade did not bode well for Severus’ chances of returning to his place in the Inner Circle.

And then a second, even worse, thought hit him; Albus had deliberately not told him.

Instead, the Headmaster had stood there and told him to fetch Potter, all the while knowing that a Death Eater raid was in progress, and he hadn’t even seen fit to warn Severus. Instead, he had told him to go and babysit Potter, all the while rallying all the real members of the old Order to go to the Ministry’s aid, as though Severus wasn’t worth telling, like he didn’t deserve to know. Now, that hurt more than Severus cared to admit.

“Severus? Severus, are you all right?” Minerva’s voice brought him back to reality, making him force back all the anger, the fear, the bitterness, and the myriad of other feelings, which her words had brought forth.

“Fine, Minerva. Now that I know the reason the Headmaster has not contacted me yet, I really must be leaving.” Severus lips twisted as he suppressed the vitriol he longed to release in response to the bad news she had brought him.

“Ethel Weatherly sends you her regards,” he spat out, and yanked his head from the Floo before he could say anything that might be potentially damaging. After all, he did not want to be on the receiving end of Minerva’s temper once school had started again.

But anger was making spots dance in front his vision, and hurt caused his eyes burn and smart as if they were about to spill over. Severus surged to his feet and stared blindly at the mantelpiece. Fool! Of course Dumbledore doesn’t trust, you! You’re his pet Death Eater after all! Caged, but never truly tamed, and definitely not worthy of his trust!

Severus stormed around the room, pacing in circles, like a trapped animal, to try and escape the pain of betrayal; too highly strung to feel dizzy from the Floo, or even realise that empirical evidence of Albus’ trust was currently lying upstairs on his guestroom bed.

Severus stopped in the middle of the room, his back to the fireplace, and stared furiously at the ceiling. He viciously tugged the rag he had pocketed from earlier through his hands, as though he wished to strangle it. How could Dumbledore? How could he?

He closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh, trying to calm down, trying to use the analytical part of his mind, which had been so very useful when he was spying, instead of the emotional, irrational part that could hold grudges for well over twenty years…

One thing he did know for certain was that he couldn’t know all of the facts. Albus’ reasons for doing things were often complicated and convoluted, and far too manipulating; something Severus had been on the receiving end of far too many times. Therefore, the likelihood of Albus losing faith in his Potions Master was on the list of possible scenarios, but not necessarily the reason that the Headmaster had decided not to share this important piece of information with Severus. Besides, Severus had not given the Headmaster reason to stop trusting him after all these years, so that idea was unlikely.

Could the old fool think that by not telling me he’s somehow protecting me? That he’s trying to keep me out of harm’s way by preventing me from returning to my spying activities? Damn it all, that’s my decision to make, not his! Just because I find it distasteful doesn’t mean that I will hide away, whimpering in terror! He needs the information I can gather to win this war, so what’s he playing at? None of this makes any sense!

Severus shook his head in disgust. Can’t Dumbledore just tell me the whole story at least once? Just once! What am I supposed to do now? He said he’d contact me, but I bet he didn’t count on the Malfoys being involved on the ‘Potter’ side of things.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and shoved the rag back into his pocket. He didn’t even want to think about how much work was ahead of him to help secure his home as a more long term residence for Perfect Potter. Not to mention he would be expected to deal with both the Malfoys and the Dursleys if Dumbledore didn’t return soon.

Severus strode out of the living room, across the front hall and into his private study, which, as it happened, was placed directly above his Potions Lab. Severus had done this little bit of designing on purpose, so that, even if he was at the height of his very bad temper, he would be able to restrain himself from deliberately blowing up the Lab. Everything down there was expendable, and easily replaced, but his study contained important files, and rare and expensive ingredients which he could not afford to damage.

Severus dropped into the chair behind his desk and sighed; time to write a missive to Albus. Whether the old coot received it or not was another matter entirely.

Chewing his quill thoughtfully – though Severus would deny the habit if ever caught doing this – Severus mulled over his options. He could either send a heavily encrypted note with Anila, the female Barn Owl most people already knew that he owned. Or, he could send a more candid note with Aeolus – a male ‘Northern Spotted Owl’, which Severus only used for very private communications – and only leave out the names of the correspondents from the missive.

The problem with Aeolus was that he was fairly new, and more likely to get lost, thus delaying the delivery by a few days. But if he used Anila, the letter was almost certainly going to be intercepted by the Death Eaters at the Ministry if it was still under siege. Of course, Severus didn’t know the state of affairs because Albus hadn’t told him, so he would have to play the situation by ear.

His decision made, Severus opened his window and whistled for Aeolus – it was better for the letter to be delayed, than for it not to arrive at all.

HPSSHPSSHPSS

Harry lay on his stomach, ankles carefully hooked together in the air behind him, staring into the long mirror opposite the end of his bed. Shadow, in exactly the same position on the other side of the glass, stared back.

“So, Shadow,” Harry started, smiling and leaning his head on one of his hands. “How’re you feeling? Was the journey here all right?”

Shadow held up one finger, and then followed it with a big ‘thumbs up,’ which made Harry grin. Shadow grinned back, and held up two fingers before holding one hand straight out in front of him, and shook it from side to side. A light sneer graced his face as he tried his point across.

Harry leaned forward, his eyes worried. “Not so good? Oh, Shadow, I’m sorry. But, you’re here now, and remember, that’s all that matters. I guess you got hurt again when I did, yeah? So you couldn’t come and find me straight away?” Harry paused while Shadow nodded solemnly, before making a wry face himself. “I really am sorry; Snape probably has the right idea, confining me to the bed. That way, I can’t hurt either of us anymore.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, pointed to his mouth, and drew his forefinger, middle finger and thumb together in a definite ‘closed’ motion, which had Harry laughing.

“All right, all right; I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself, I get it! I suppose this is the perfect opportunity for me to start working on the whole ‘who’s my father’ thing.” An extremely uneasy look passed over Harry’s face. “Shadow, please don’t say it’s Snape.”

Harry watched avidly as Shadow looked directly into his eyes… and shrugged.

“What?” Harry squeaked loudly. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’? You’re the one who started me on this in the first place!”

Shadow could only shrug again and point from himself to Harry, over and over. Harry frowned deeply, before the oddest expression came over his face. Either this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought of, or the cleverest.

“Shadow,” Harry said, as slowly and carefully as possible. “You said that you’re me, right?”

Shadow nodded.

“So… so… If you’re me; that means that… you must know everything I know, right?”

Shadow nodded again, his eyes wide and pleading as though Harry was so, so close to the right answer, but just needed to think the tiniest bit further.

“And if you know everything I know,” Harry continued, his eyes firmly locked with Shadow’s. “The next logical thing must be… that I know everything that you know.”

Harry watched in amazement as Shadow leapt upright on the bed opposite and started bouncing around while silently yelling, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ Harry watched for several minutes, laughing loudly as Shadow continued to celebrate Harry’s ‘victory’. Only when he almost fell off the bed did Harry intervene.

“All right, now! Settle down! I’m pleased too, but we’re both still recovering. I thought you were supposed to be the sensible, all knowing one!”

Shadow stuck out his tongue at Harry, but obediently sat down opposite the black haired boy and crossed his legs. Harry moved to copy the position once more and smiled.

“I really should have worked that out sooner; you know, all that research that says we only use a tiny bit of our brain. Only you’re different, so you remember everything; all the little details that I’ve forgotten or skimmed over.” Shadow nodded emphatically. “So you,” Harry swallowed, “so you remember our Mum?”

A nod.

“And her telling us about our Dad?”

Another nod.

“Wow!” Harry was a little speechless by this point. Shadow can remember everything? God. That must do his head in! And he can’t even talk to me properly! “Where’s a biro and notepad when you need it?” Harry glanced quickly around the room; no biros.

Harry sighed as he stared at his trunk; though it contained exactly what he needed, there was no way he could reach it without climbing out of bed and alerting Snape. Not for the first time, Harry longed for his wand. He felt naked without it; without magic, for it was the only true way he had of defending himself. Not that he thought Snape was about to attack him, but something about the man always unsettled him; almost as if he had forgotten something basic that the man had told him to remember, and had to prepare himself to be sneered at. In that situation, he always felt much safer with his wand settled in his back pocket.

“Somehow we have to find a way to make Snape give us back our wand…” Harry stopped abruptly, as a horrible thought occurred to him. Harry stared at Shadow in horror, who stared back, his panic equal to that which was etched clearly on Harry’s face. “The decree for underage magic…” Harry breathed. “Do you think they’ll expel me this time? They haven’t sent me a warning or anything yet; that has to be bad…” Harry swallowed and tried to prevent his lower lip from trembling. The Ministry can’t break my wand! Magic is all I have!

Shadow waved for Harry’s attention and pantomimed stroking a very long beard.

“Dumbledore? Yeah, Dumbledore will save us, won’t he, Shadow?” Harry said, trying to convince himself that it was true. “I mean, he sent Snape to fetch us… well, me, and that should mean he’ll stand by me, doesn’t it?”

Shadow nodded encouragingly, though the reassurance looked tremulous at best.

“There you are then!” Harry exclaimed, trying to sound cheerful. He swung his legs off the bed and dangled them daringly over the end, tempting himself with the idea of standing up and walking about a little. “Um, Shadow?” he asked once the panic was pushed back to where he could control it once more. “Can you think of any back-up plans… you know… just in case?”

Shadow unconsciously copied Harry’s position, set his head on one hand, and stared off into the middle distance, his eyes vacant. Harry waited as patiently as he could, unwilling to disturb his double’s thoughts. Come on, Shadow, you know tons of things I’ve forgotten long ago. There must be something we can do!

Slowly, Shadow brought his eyes back up to meet Harry’s own, carefully blank, as though he were still trying to remember something. And then, all of a sudden, Shadow’s eyes snapped back into focus, staring at Harry with blinding, blazing delight.