Voldemort caressed Nagini, enjoying the soft feel of her scales beneath his hand. He felt even more connected to his familiar than he ever had, and he knew that was because she had given a part of herself to his rebirth, connecting them in both body and soul. He scratched her upon her hood, and gazed out at his loyal followers. As he looked at each of them, they dropped to their knees and paid him the homage he was due. His pleasure grew, eclipsing that sudden moment of weakness and uncertainty he had experienced after he had returned from beyond the Veil. Surely the weakness had only been a temporary disorientation, as often happened when a spirit was shoved too quickly back into a corporeal shell. And yet . . .there was a tiny voice in the back of his head that hissed that all was not as it should be.

He closed his eyes and examined his magical core. It seemed as strong as ever, glowing with strident reds and black, like always. He even felt rejuvenated, and suspected it had to do with absorbing his old mentor’s blood and magic. Thinking of Dumbledore brought a smile to his face, and he turned and spat upon the still form. “Get this piece of filth from my sight,” he ordered abruptly. “He defiles the altar.”

Bella and another raced to obey, picking up Dumbledore’s limp form and then looking at Voldemort questioningly. “What shall we do with the body, Master?” Bella cooed.

“Put it somewhere I won’t see it. We can dispose of the remains afterwards.”

“At once, Master. We hear and obey,” Bellatrix said, then she and the other Death Eater raced from the chamber.

They climbed a short set of stairs to an alcove room that had once been a small study and there they dumped the body. “Come on!” Bellatrix snarled. “I want to be there when he tells us how we can rip out Snape’s guts and itty bitty Potter’s too. I so love the sound of agony.”

The other Death Eater said nothing, merely followed her, his lip curled in disgust.

Neither of them noticed that the body left in the middle of the room upon the large desk still had a bit of life left in it. And very slowly, Dumbledore’s chest was rising and falling.

* * * * * *

Voldemort listened carefully as Lucius explained all of what had happened since his second death and rebirth. Being in the afterworld made it hard for him to focus upon what was going on below him, since the nature of the Veil was to muffle the emotions and needs of the living and encourage the spirit to remain within the afterlife. Lucius’ revelations were not much of a surprise to him, however. He had started to suspect Severus was not what he seemed when the Potter bastard had gone missing. And his suspicions had been correct. But no matter, Snape would pay for his treachery.

No one crossed the Dark Lord and lived to tell of it.

Voldemort led his followers from the Chamber of Secrets down the corridor to a slightly smaller room with a large table and benches in it, just right for a council session. He had already determined that he would use the four children as bait to draw Snape and Potter and the Aurors to him. But first he must summon what remained of his followers.

He looked over at Bellatrix and said quietly, “Bella, my sweet, may I borrow your wand?”

Bellatrix looked as if he had offered her a million Galleons. “Of course, Master. I live to serve you,” she purred and everyone there knew what she was referring to. She drew her wand and handed it reverently over to him.

He took the twelve and a half walnut wand with the dragon heartsring core and swished it experimentally, getting the wand’s measure before he drew back the sleeve of his black robe and turned his wrist over to reveal the Dark Mark. He placed the tip of his wand upon the Mark and bent his will upon it. Come. Come to me! You are needed. Come!

All of the Death Eaters in the room gasped as their Mark burned, but it soon faded since they were already as close to him as they could get. Voldemort grimaced slightly, for his own Mark was buzzing and tingling oddly, normally it never reacted that way to a mere summoning. He had created the brand as a means to summon and control his followers, using a cross between a Protean Charm and an Oath of Fealty. That was why only those whom he trusted were marked, and why it angered him so much that Snape had betrayed him. Voldemort did not like to be shown as making mistakes, his whole image revolved on him being a nearly omniscient figure whose power was unmatched by any wizard alive.

He wished he had thought of making the Mark more like an Unbreakable Vow, but at the time he had figured binding too many people to him might prove too great a drain upon his magical core. He had thought fear of his ruthless vicious reputation and pain would be enough to ensure his followers’ obedience. But he had never reckoned on Severus Snape, whose soul, though injured, would not bend in the face of adversity, and who was protected by love.

As the call went out, all of the Death Eaters winced and clasped their brand. Voldemort waited for those who were missing to appear. Some would not, for they were dead, but he was still missing Crabbe senior.

He scowled. “Where is Crabbe?”

There was silence, and he could sense the unease and fear roiling through the air.

Finally Bellatrix spoke. “Master, that bastard Crabbe has gone over to the other side as well. He is a traitor and I cannot wait to make him pay for his audacity!”

Voldemort hissed angrily, his eyes glowing. Crabbe too? Apparently Snape’s decision had spread like an infection through his ranks, and he swore inwardly. “They will both pay, Bella.” He reached out and caressed her cheek in approval.

Bella practically rolled over and offered herself to him.

“What should we do now, my lord?” asked Lucius respectfully.

“With Dumbledore dead, I can now concentrate upon taking over the school and once the last two obstacles are removed, I shall reign supreme over all of Britain and Europe.” Voldemort replied, his eyes far away, seeing the fruits of his bloody vision coming to pass.

“All hail to the power and might of Lord Voldemort!” the others responded.

Voldemort basked in their adulation, it was sweeter than wine to him.

It was what he had always longed for as a friendless orphan, mistrusted by everyone. The power to crush his enemies and to make people worship him. And finally he had it.

An oily smile slipped across his face as he pictured a new statue standing in the Ministry, himself triumphant over Dumbledore, Potter, and Snape. He rubbed his Mark surreptitiously, wondering why it itched and tingled so.

* * * * * *

Crabbe had been sleeping peacefully when he was yanked out of his dreams by a terrible burning pain upon his left arm. He jerked up, one hand going to his wrist, gasping. His Mark. It was dark and burning. He could feel the urge to Apparate and had to fight against it with all he was.

He gritted his teeth, stifling a moan of pain.

On the couch, Harry stirred, his dreams full of blood and pain and fire.

He woke dripping with sweat, Severus’s name upon his lips, and it was then he saw Crabbe groaning and clutching his arm. “What is it? Is it the Mark, sir?” hissed Harry. His head was pounding.

Crabbe nodded grimly.

“Let me go get Severus.” Harry said, then rose to his feet. He gently placed Vera on a pillow before doing so, the little boa was wide awake. Trouble, little S-s-snake S-s-speaker?

Maybe. He hissed over his shoulder. But he had barely taken three steps before he banged into Severus.

“Harry? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No. But Mr. Crabbe needs you.”

Severus nodded, then walked into the den. Crabbe was clutching the Mark convulsively. Then Severus felt a slight tingling in the remainder of his own brand and felt his heart grow cold within him. It could mean but one thing. Malfoy and LeStrange had brought the rebirth to pass before they had destroyed the last Horcrux.

“Vincent. He’s calling, isn’t he?”

Pale and shaking, the magesmith nodded. “Yes. He’s come back, Severus. Again. Heaven above, does this mean he is truly immortal?” There was fear in the big man’s eyes as well as pain.

Snape shook his head. “No. Trust me on that. He cheats death, Vincent, but death shall call the debt due very soon. No wizard is immortal.”

“Then how is he bloody doing this?” Crabbe gasped, gritting his teeth.

Severus summoned a pain relieving potion from his stores. “Drink it. It’ll dull the burning.”

Crabbe did so. “Why aren’t you feeling it?”

Snape rolled up his sleeve and showed the ex-Death Eater how his brand was nearly faded to nothing. “I feel an annoying itch, but that’s all.”

Crabbe’s eyes widened. “Blazes, Severus! How did you manage that?”

“A Ritual of Renewal. Sometimes the old ways are best,” Snape said shortly. He turned to his apprentice. “Get dressed. Bring your Invisibility Cloak. And remember, no foolish heroics, Mr. Potter. I won’t—” he broke off abruptly as Harry clutched his head and whimpered. “What’s wrong?”

“My scar . . .hurts . . .”

Severus summoned another vial of the pain numbing elixir, plus an Extra Strength Headache Reliever and a Stomach Soother. One by one, he handed them to Harry, who took them all without a single murmur of protest.

“All right now, son?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. Thanks, Sev.” He held out his arm for Vera, who uncoiled and shot up onto his wrist. Then he wandlessly called his clothes and cloak to him before heading into the bathroom to change, his stomach in knots despite all the potions.

Crabbe looked up at Severus. “This is it, isn’t it? The final battle.”

The Potions Master gave him a grim smile. “If the Fates are kind, yes.” Then he cupped the amulet he wore about his neck and called Minerva.

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, in the depths of the earth, the four hostages felt the return of the Dark Lord. The pulse of evil magic flowed through the catacombs when Voldemort crossed over and all four students felt the sudden jolt, and way the evil presence increased. It terrified them, and they huddled together like lost puppies. All of the girls were crying and Vince was shivering and wishing he were back in Yorkshire. They felt as if they were smothering under the chill weight of the dark.

But at last it was over and they slowly unwound and looked at one another, tears streaking their grimy faces. “What was that?” Marietta squeaked.

“Something not good,” Susan said helpfully.

“Vera hasn’t returned,” Hermione stated. “That’s a bad sign.”

“Yes,” Vince said heavily.

“Then that means . . .no one’s coming to rescue us,” Marietta said in a small wretched voice.

“And if that’s so, we go to Plan B, and rescue ourselves,” Vince said decisively. He fingered his silver crossbow charm pointedly.

“Right,” Susan agreed. “How do we open the cell door?”

“We create a diversion,” Hermione said. She looked at the pale and scared Ravenclaw. “Marietta, how well can you act? Did you ever take drama in school? Before Hogwarts, I mean?”

“Not . . .officially, but my cousins and I used to put on plays sometimes for our parents.”

“Good. Then here’s what we’ll do . . .” she knelt down and whispered something in Marietta’s ear.

“I can do that.” Marietta said.

Hermione smiled and hugged her briefly. “Knock ‘em dead, Edgecomb.”

“What’s going on?” Vince asked.

“Marietta’s going to come down with a sudden illness,” Hermione explained. “The rest of us are going to scream and call for the guards and when one comes and opens the door, Susan, you hit him with a Sleep Charm. Then we drag him in here and lock the door.”

“Steal his wand too,” Vince reminded. “I’ll activate my crossbow afterwards.” He continued. “Once we’re out, I’ll take point, shoot any dark wizard I see, and we’ll go from there.”

“Good, except I just hope none of them Stun first and ask questions later,” Susan said.

“That’s where I come in.” Hermione said proudly. “My Repel Magic shield ought to take care of that.” She took a deep breath and patted Marietta on the shoulder. Then she reached into a pocket and drew out a travel sized tube of toothpaste. “Forgot I had this in these pajamas. I think I wore them last when I stayed over Ron’s.”

“What is it?” asked Susan curiously.

“Toothpaste. Our salvation.”

“Huh?” Vince looked blank.

But Marietta was nodding. “That’ll do nicely.”

She flopped down upon the cell floor in a heap.

“Showtime,” hissed the Gryffindor.

* * * * * *

Some six minutes later, the Death Eater in charge of watching the corridor heard the most awful cries coming from the cell. Followed by the other children screaming.

“Help! Help! I think she’s having a fit!” Hermione wailed. “Somebody call an ambulance!”

“Get a Healer!” Susan screamed. “I think she’s choking!”

“Marietta! Marietta, don’t go!” Vince cried. “Hurry up, you buggers! I think she’s dying!”

“Please . . .somebody help us!” cried Hermione loudly, sounding as if she were going to burst into tears.

What the hell? The Death Eater stood, alarmed by the ruckus. He had felt the return of his lord, and was pleased, but he could not leave his post to greet him, which made him irritable. These bloody kids were nothing but trouble.

He strode down the corridor, robes flapping and unlocked the door with a swift charm. Then he pulled it open. “What the hell are you sniveling about, you little brats?”

“It’s Marietta!” Hermione sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “Just . . .look at her!”

The guard did, and went pale.

Marietta was writhing on the floor, thrashing about, her limbs jerling every which way and some kind of white froth was spilling from her lips as she groaned and her eyes were rolled back in her head.

“Bloody hell! What’s wrong with ‘er? What happened?”

“We don’t know!” Susan sniffled.

“One minute she’s fine and the next she’s like this,” Vince said, looking extremely worried.

The guard swore and then knelt to examine the girl.

Susan pointed her hand and concentrated.

Two minutes later, the guard toppled over, snoring heavily.

Vince snatched up the Death Eater’s wand. “Here. Take it someone. I need both hands free to operate my crossbow.” He spoke a word and the pendant about his neck shivered and sparkled and then became a solid crossbow. Vince held it gently. A glowing blue bolt was already in it.

Marietta sat up, wiping toothpaste from her chin. “It worked! Hermione, you’re brilliant. How come you’re not a Ravenclaw?”

Hermione blushed. “I don’t know. Maybe I should have been.”

Susan handed her the wand. “You came up with the plan, so it’s only fair you get the first wand.”

Hermione took it. “Thanks.”

They scurried out the cell door and it shut with a clang. Hermione cast a Locking Charm on it and then cast the Repel Magic shield over them.

By then the other three guards had come to investigate.

“Oi, Sid! Everything okay down there with the snots?”

The children crouched down, trying to hide, but there was no cover.

“Get ready!” Vince warned, lifting the crossbow.

The guard appeared in the mouth of the tunnel. “Sid, what are you doing?” Then he realized that Sid was not there and the children were out. “Aww, what the bloody—”

He never finished his sentence.

A glowing blue bolt exploded from Vince’s crossbow and took him in the throat.

He fell to the ground with a thump.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

Vince nodded. “Had to. It was us or him.” He looked at the pale and trembling Gryffindor. “Suck it up, Granger. You can puke later, when it’s over. Come on.”

She swallowed hard and followed, relieved to note she wasn’t the only one who felt nauseous. The other two girls looked sick to their stomachs too.

Another guard appeared, and shot a Stunning Hex at them. “Little buggers! Get back in your cell! The Dark Lord has returned and you’re going to be brought before him.”

But the hex bounced right off Hermione’s shield.

The next instant he was gurgling when Vince shot him.

He knelt and tossed the other’s wand. Susan caught it and tucked it in her sleeve.

Twice more they were attacked, and twice more repelled the spells thrown at them and Vince used his crossbow with deadly accuracy. He might have felt ill if he let himself think about it, but Vince knew that these people would have cheerfully ripped out a lung on a living baby and laughed. So he was doing the world a favor.

They continued down the corridor, moving quickly and quietly.

* * * * * *

Trelawney’s Tower:

It was near midnight when Fawkes awoke Sybill keening loudly.

The Seer sat straight up in bed, the awful lament echoing in her ears.

“Fawkes? Fawkes, what’s the matter?” she cried, throwing off the covers and running over to where the phoenix was perched upon the couch.

The beautiful bird was singing a funeral dirge but then he halted abruptly and looked at her. I thought he was gone, but now . . .I feel him again.

“Fawkes!” Sybill cried, ashen. “It’s Albus, isn’t it?”

The phoenix nodded, his wise eyes filled with grief and a strange hope all at once.

“Is he . . .gone?” she whispered, beginning to tremble. She knew that the bond between the phoenix and his wizard was of the deepest connection. “Oh, please, please . . .”

But Fawkes shook his head firmly.

“He’s not dead? You’re sure?”

The phoenix trilled an affirmative. But then his head drooped. He mimed a wing broken and made a soft sound as if in pain. Hurt badly, Sybill chick. Must help.

“He’s badly hurt?” Sybill queried, having learned over the years to interpret Fawkes’ pantomimes.

Fawkes bobbed his head sharply.

“Do you know where he is? Can you find him?”

Fawkes gave her an insulted look. Of course I can, fluffbrain. I am a phoenix and I always know where my wizard is. Our bond is not broken yet. But he is fading. He needs me.

Sybill stuffed her feet into her shoes and grabbed her wand and an emergency kit of potions. “I’m not a mediwitch like Poppy but I can help. Take me with you. Please, Fawkes! I cannot bear it if he dies.”

The phoenix hesitated. He knew Albus had wished this chick to remain safe, hence the wards about the tower. But Sybill was wearing her mulish look and Fawkes knew that he might need help, and so he gave in.

Come then, Sybill chick. We shall rescue Albus together. The phoenix sang an arpeggio of agreement, then he flew to Sybill’s shoulders and grasped her tightly in his talons.

An instant later they vanished in a cloud of golden sparkles, flashed away by Fawkes’ power.

* * * * * *

“Are you sure this is the place, boy?” Moody asked skeptically, peering hard at the stone wall on the outside of the castle. He tapped the wall with his wand. “It seems solid, even to my magical eye.”

“It’s not. Vera says she came through the hole down there,” Harry indicated a small hole with his foot in the foundation of the castle, just large enough for a snake to slither through.

“Oh, brilliant. How can we all fit through that?” Sirius grumbled, he was on edge again, and prone to snap at people.

S-say the magic words . . .hsss! Vera told Harry.

What magic words, s-s-scale s-sister?

Vera told him.

“Half a minute, I think I’ve got it,” Harry said, then spoke the words aloud, omitting the serpent’s hiss however.

Slowly, the section of the wall began to move, coming out and then sliding over with a grinding crunch. There was now a gaping black tunnel.

Harry felt like doing a victory dance. “Ha! Open Sesame!” he blurted.

Sirius stared at him. “Say what?”

“Muggle reference, Black, you illiterate ignoramus,” Snape rolled his eyes. “Well done, apprentice. Now move back. Aurors first. Have Vera show them the way.”

Harry spoke something in Parseltongue and Vera slipped from his wrist to coil in the passageway. “Follow her, please. She knows the way.”

Moody and Shacklebolt lit up their wands, and so did Amelia. The Head of the Department shook her head and said wryly, “Well, I’ve had slippery leads before this, but never a snake.”

Harry ended up besides Severus as they crossed into the tunnel, he was gripping his wand in his fist, and he looked up at his mentor nervously.

Severus did not speak, but grasped his ward’s shoulder comfortingly. His mouth quirked at the irony of the whole situation. And a little familiar shall lead them.

All of them trooped into the tunnel and Vera slithered ahead, her bright green length luring them down the dark tunnel and hopefully to rescue their children trapped below, moving slowly (for her) but surely over the stones.

Sirius followed next to Remus and Tonks, and prayed that Bellatrix would be there, for he owed her big time for nearly killing him and then making him insane. And this time he would not be caught off guard by her mad ravings. This time he would strike first and talk later.

Remus sniffed sharply as he entered the tunnel, smelling dust and age and the recent scent of people. He wrinkled his nose. There was something . . .something evil about this place and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He bared his teeth and thought, Voldy’s down there, but maybe we can surprise him. I want him dead as much as Greyback.

Arthur and Molly brought up the rear, and as soon as they were inside, the tunnel sealed itself. Only one of their number had elected to stay behind. Hagrid claimed he was too big for such small passages, and he promised Minerva he would stay and keep watch and protect Sybill, who was in her tower.

Once the entrance was shut, they felt rather like being entombed and to take their minds off that feeling, they focused on Vera, who led them unerringly down and around the tunnels, a viridian flash in darkest midnight.