“Jaidy,” Severus tried to bellow as he appeared back in his inner laboratory. The emergency Portkey deposited him and the three children in the middle of the room. The attempted ‘bellow’, not much above a strained whisper, was cut short as he collapsed. His legs broke under him, literally; his right hand hung uselessly, a limp and bloody mess; arms covered with a variety of bruises, and cuts and abrasions decorated his face.

“Oh, Master Severus,” the wizened house-elf sighed as she appeared at his side. “Three children. How is you going to survive this one?”

Severus might have answered ‘I don’t know’, but it was hard to tell, blood was flowing freely from his mouth and he was having great difficulty breathing.

Jaidy could hear a distinct rattle that indicated at least one broken rib, possibly a punctured lung. She turned and quickly called the rest of the Snape Elves to the laboratory. Appearing instantly, eyes blazing as they took in the crumpled form of the House Master they turned to Jaidy, if Severus could not command them, Jaidy could.

“Master?” she asked gently, “have you released the bindings?” Under normal, or at least normal for a post-Voldemort get together, she would not concern herself with whether the binding had been loosed or not. The state Severus was currently in however, she was amazed he had gotten them all home, but until he released the binding, anything the elves did would reflect back on Severus, detrimentally.

“Master. The binding?” Worriedly, she touched his head. The Kedavra binding was one of Severus’ most powerful spells, unfortunately only he, or his death, could release it. The latter option was not acceptable to the house elves. In desperation they used their link to the house and to Severus to channel strength into his damaged frame.

“Kedavra finartum restoria,” Severus managed to croak out eventually, his voice and the spell releasing the bindings on the children. A pale blue glow flickered over the children indicating the successful cessation of the binding.

Jaidy quickly assigned two elves to each of the children. “Take them up to the nursery wing.” Knowing of old the needed potions, she conjured them from Severus’ private Master store. “Remember, they need to be able to keep the blue down before we can give them the pink.” Without bothering to watch if her orders were carried out, she returned her attentions to the stricken Potions Master. Use of house-strength only temporarily aided Severus; without that to bolster him, he would collapse further into himself.

“Don’t die Master, please don’t die.”

“I won’t Jaidy, that bitch Fate is having too much fun,” Severus dragged up the strength to reassure her. Jaidy, an able aide-de-camp, coped well with injuries to any of the house-elves, kept the House and environs running smoothly, and could have faced down Voldemort without fear, but like any mother when her child is past the point were she can help, Jaidy would fold.

“Quiet now, Master, what needs to be done?” Reassured by the gentle bite in his voice she responded calmly.

Aware that explanations, and mis-directions, at Hogwarts were going to be needed sooner, rather than later, he asked Jaidy to bring him the Hypocratia Kit. The Hypocratia Kit was Healing on Speed, the last resort normally only used to prolong the point at which death could take hold. Madam Pomfrey had once said she’d rather cast ‘Avada Kedavra’ than use the Hypocratia; it was a far cleaner death.

Looking worried, Jaidy complied, though the thought of Severus relying on the kit rather than true healing frightened her. “You must be letting us heal you, Master. You can’t be coping with three deaths, you are needed.”

Ignoring her and her rather valid complaint, Severus downed the contents of the kit. He finally had an idea of how bad he really was when the kit’s only apparent effect as far as he was concerned was to remind his bladder that it still worked. Mortified at the lack of control he looked instead at Jaidy.

“No.” She read the request in his eyes. “You can’t go trying to kill yourself. You’ll have to let us heal you.”

“I don’t have time,” he hissed with something like the vigour of a two-week-old corpse “The children will be missed sooner or later, Potter is almost certainly already aware of some of this evenings goings on and if I’m not there...” He left the rest unspoken. Jaidy knew the risks they ran.

As if to underscore that point, Dumbledore’s disembodied voice floated through the chamber. “Severus, you are needed immediately.”

“Bugger. Sooner, it appears.” Severus snarled as he levered himself up. Taking the silver-tipped cane Jaidy thrust at him, he stumbled back towards the port door that would return him to his ‘dungeon’ at Hogwarts.

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Hermione had never been so scared in her entire life; the sight of Professor Snape in all the sartorial splendour of a Death Eater incarnate was enough to worry most sensible people. To hear him calmly ask, “May I, My Lord?” While looking down in a manner that suggested all sorts of nasty possibilities, her soul cried in fear. ‘He’s on our side, he’s on our side, he’s on our side’, kept ringing through her brain like a mantra, but at that moment she truly doubted the fact.

Voldemort’s comments were almost lost to her as she felt his wand trace her jaw, Viktor Krum had traced her jaw like that just before kissing her. What Professor Snape planned probably didn’t involve kissing. “Severus, my boy, still tempted by children I see. I had promised those who brought me these special gifts would have some participation in their use. You cannot have all the fun, you know.”

The cool and clinical way that he discussed harvesting had Hermione, and she noticed vaguely the other two Gryffindors, retching their breakfast up. “Now, now, Severus. No need to unduly frighten them,” Voldemort said soothingly; something she was sure no one would believe was possible. The fact that she might not live to tell anyone was something she did not want to contemplate.

Hermione, however, was a Gryffindor, and with Gryffindor courage she watched the ceremonies, committing to memory every face she saw, every crime committed, every curse cast. If she survived tonight, she would make them pay.

“It is time to celebrate,” Voldemort said as the last corpse collapsed at his feet. “Severus, as you have indicated a need for the children, take them.” Voldemort turned to face him. “I expect to see the results soon. Take the young initiates with you whilst we continue with the rest.”

Professor Snape’s only reaction to the slight, as far as Hermione could see, was a crinkling of his forehead. “Well, Mr Malfoy, Miss Parkinson, bring those children with you. We will be working somewhere a little more private,” he said in his best schoolroom voice. Being dragged by ‘Mobilicorpus’, Hermione was as surprised as Draco and Pansy, when Severus Snape demonstrated a wholly unexpected ability with the wand to conjure three altars.

Taking a long black wand from his left arm, Professor Snape quickly and efficiently had the children bound, one to an altar. With the focused clarity of fear, Hermione noticed that the tip of the wand was moist as Professor Snape drew it around her jaw. “Relax, Granger,” he whispered in a very quiet voice, “this will go far better if you do.” ‘Relax’, he says, she thought sarcastically, righto.

Though, as she heard him ask, “Your wands, please,” of Pansy and Draco she felt that first bubble of hope. This was quickly squashed as he handed the wands back.

Taking the place at the head of the altar on which Hermione was bound, she heard him direct Draco and Pansy to similar positions at the other altars. Her mind registered Professor Snape instructing Draco and Pansy on a multitude of Unforgivables. Shadows of pain washed through her as each curse was cast. Her right hand momentarily felt as though it was broken, and she heard herself screaming like a patient in a dentist chair. She could just make out the dark energies that Pansy Parkinson was calling, strangely, Draco Malfoy seemed more reluctant. In her almost dream-like state, she saw all the energies cast at her and the other two children coalesce and feed back towards Professor Snape. The last thing she was aware of before oblivion captured her was Professor Snape casting ‘Avada Kedavra’.

‘Imdead, imdead, imdead’, she thought as she was jolted awake by Professor Snape’s voice sounding rough and broken, “Kedavra finartum restoria.”

An elderly House elf came briefly into view before she felt herself being floated though a strange doorway. “Remember, they need to be able to keep the blue down before we can give them the pink.” Whatever that meant.

She found out soon enough as a younger house-elf poured a blue, viscous liquid down her throat. The moment it reached her stomach it immediately came back the way it had been; with it came a vague sense of pain over her entire body, though her right hand momentarily spasmed. The house elf waited till her stomach stopped spasming before pouring more of the vile liquid down her throat. Each time she threw up, her body remembered another torture that had been inflicted on it, but these memories were shadows.

“Isn’t he back yet?” she heard whispered at one point, a lull in the storm.

“No, and Jaidy be awful worried.” Another voice, also soft.

“Iffen he isn’t back soon, he’s going to be dying.” The first whispered again. “Just watching what come from her, would kill most, an’ he’s carrying three.”

The voices receded as another bout of nausea hit. This continued for what seemed like an eternity, but was in fact little over an hour. Finally, once she was able to keep the blue potion down, the house elf gave her a vial of red liquid. It tasted like summer, and spring all rolled together; chocolate, spice and the best of the summer fruits danced across tongue.

“That’s right Missy, you’ll be recovering proper now.” The elderly house elf, Jaidy, stepped into view. “Rest and sleep.” With that command Hermione lost any battle to remain conscious, unknown to her, the same had happened to the younger children over 40 minutes earlier.

“She was a tough one, that,” Jaidy commented, almost angrily.

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Hogwarts was currently in an uproar. Fawkes had duly fetched Dumbledore back to his office where he found Harry Potter unconscious on the floor. Whilst waiting for Madam Pomfrey to answer his summons, Dumbledore noted fast and furious movement of Harry’s eyelids, but try as he might the venerable wizard was unable to wake Harry.

“Something’s keeping him under, Albus,” Poppy finally said after running every diagnostic test she could think of. “I think it’s safe to move him, but...”

“Are we really sure we want the school seeing Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, in this state on today of all days,” Albus finished for Poppy. Harry may not have been aware of the significance of the date, but a great many others were, and not all of them were likely to be friendly. “I agree, Poppy, and I have the feeling you’ll veto the use of the floo-network too, correct?” he added with a twinkle.

“No Albus, I would not recommend the floo, and given we have him on a nice comfortable bed, I suggest we leave him here.”

“Yes, that would be best,” Dumbledore concurred, thinking at least here at Hogwarts he was reasonably safe. “I think I’ll send for Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, they can sit here with Harry for a while.”

“And you can go back to worrying about Severus,” Poppy intuited.

Thus, the fact that Hermione Granger was missing was discovered considerably earlier than was expected by any of the parties in the day’s drama. Realising that the last place she had been seen was leaving Potions that morning, a castle top to bottom search was instigated. The search resulted in Ron Weasley being found unconscious in one of the halls near the dungeons, obviously as a result of a fair beating, and that a number of other students were also unaccounted for. Two Slytherins; Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy; and two first year Gryffindors; Henry Smithson and Andrew Dray.

Ron regained consciousness in the Hospital wing, coming up fighting. Messers Crabbe and Goyle were called for and given the state of their faces it was obvious that they had been involved in an violent argument of some description, but neither would admit to having been anywhere near Ron Weasley. The fact that Ron had to be forcibly restrained from trying the strangle Goyle was unfortunately not sufficient proof of complicity.

“Well, get Snape then,” Ron finally demanded, “after all he’s the Potions Master, or it he just going to cover for these two as well.”

“That is Professor Snape to you Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore admonished gently. “The problem is that Professor Snape is truly indisposed at the moment and I am not sure of his ability to help in this matter.” Dumbledore’s face showed briefly a worried frown. “Still,” he turned to the Hospital Wing’s fireplace, and throwing a pinch of floo powder in called, “Professor Snape’s Quarters.”

When the floo turned green, indicating an active link, Dumbledore called out “Severus, you are needed immediately.” Moments later Severus literally fell through the floo and collapsed in a heap at Dumbledore’s feet.

“Oh my lord,” Poppy was moving forwards instantaneously, her wand out, her face a mask of concentration.

Dumbledore stepped back, allowing Poppy easy access to the unconscious man at his feet. What worried him was the amount of blood currently pooling about Severus’ still form. If it weren’t for the dull rattle of his lungs you would have believed Severus Snape to be dead. Turning back to the students, and quickly conjuring a shield around the Potions Master, Dumbledore said sadly, “It appears Professor Snape will not be able to help us sort this conundrum out. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, I would like you to return to your Tower, immediately. You are to remain there until I send for you; if you leave the tower at all it will mean your immediate expulsion from this school. Do I make myself crystal clear?”

Every inch the powerful wizard that he was, Dumbledore cowered the two Slytherins completely. They literally slunk out of the Hospital wing and returned quickly to the Tower. “Minerva,” he turned to address the austere Head of Gryffindor who was currently standing by Ron’s bed. “Would you please call the order in? I’ll get Remus Lupin to mind the Slytherins for the moment. It looks like we are going to have to wait for someone to wake.”

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It took over an hour for all members of the Order to arrive, luckily for Dumbledore’s peace of mind, Remus and Sirius were amongst the first to arrive. Showing no indication of the unease he currently felt, Dumbledore sent Remus and Sirius off to the Slytherin Tower with instructions that if Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson turned up he was to be notified immediately.

Molly Weasley, when she arrived, was quickly dispatched to watch over Harry with similar instructions to Remus and Sirius, the only difference being that Harry waking up was the reason for Dumbledore to be contacted. The rest of the members of the Order retired to Madame Pomfrey’s office to discuss the current state of affairs, and more importantly to attempt to formulate contingency plans particularly for the care of Severus Snape.

In the meantime, Madame Pomfrey had used the time taken to gather the Order well. She had managed to stabilise Severus, though it was looking like a hard-fought battle. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall wisely stayed out of the medi-witch’s way whilst they waited for the Order to gather. The sheer scope of injury became clearer to Poppy when she was able to remove Severus’ outer robe, though she was exceedingly careful to make sure that nothing contained therein fell out or was seen by Ron Weasley. In fact, the presence of the young Weasley was something of a problem; so much to that Poppy was fast beginning to contemplate the use of ‘Obliviate’ on the youngest Weasley male so that she could work faster and without so much circumspection. She was saved the ‘necessity’ of following through with this thought when Dumbledore quietly cast a ‘Slumberous’ on Ron.

“I take it he has a few of his, umm, Specials tucked about him?” Dumbledore asked as Ron fell into a deep sleep.

“More than a few, and that worries me, Albus. Three wands, and I’d swear the shirt of his is going to be ‘dangerous’.” Poppy was well aware of the some of the more interesting ways Severus had developed for the delivery of Potions and she would not put it past him to have poisoned his own clothing as a last weapon of last resort against being found out by Voldemort, or others of the Death Eating Family.

“I’m not entirely sure what else is safe to remove, but I’m also worried about the extent of his injuries. He’s made it worse by using Hypocratia. What worries is that if he needed that to answer your summons. We are in very serious trouble, Albus,” the medi-witch said, exasperation colouring her voice. Like many in Order she liked the sarcastic bastard known as the Potions Master more than she let on.

“Do what you can Poppy, but remember it must be done here at Hogwarts. We can not send him to St. Mungo’s, in fact I’m worried we are not going to be able to let on that he is injured at all.” Dumbledore wasn’t able to see into the future, precisely, but he had a very bad feeling. Severus may well have cemented his place back in with the lunatic crew, but at what cost. Worse was the fact that the Order needed him to be trusted by Voldemort, and even Dumbledore did not truly understand what that meant Severus had to do.

“No, but we need to move him to somewhere a little more ‘private’,” Poppy commented, interrupting his thoughts. “I’d normally hate to suggest this, but his own quarters might be the best place. I can floo between here and there easily enough and no-one, not even the Slytherins, are likely to disturb him there; for once his reputation may be of some use.”

“Do what you think is best Poppy, though I agree privacy is important, his safety is absolutely paramount.” Turning to Minerva who had returned by then he said, “We will need to contact the parents but I’m loathe to do so until we have more information, and we need Severus for that. The Smithson and Dray families are likely to assume the worst, as they will be aware of the significance of the date, but the Grangers... how do we explain the situation to them?”

“You’re not assuming the worst are you, Albus?” Minerva asked.

“Severus has pulled the occasional miracle off before, but...” The arrival of the first of the Orders’ members cut his comment off mid-stream.

“Oh my god,” Remus barely had time to comment as he and Sirius were quickly dispatched to the Slytherin Tower. The sight of Severus’ battered body he saw, as Poppy Pomfrey start the processes of moving the unconscious Severus back to his own quarters was something that would haunt his sleep for weeks to come.

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The tower’s residents did not greet the arrival of Remus Lupin with a large, somewhat mangy, black dog in tow at the Slytherin Tower with a great degree of equanimity. The fact that they saw themselves under house arrest, and in the care of someone who was not now, nor had ever been, a Slytherin was bad enough. That he also happened to be a werewolf masquerading as the shabby ex-Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was too much to be borne. The students reacted in the time-honoured manner of embarrassed and put-upon students; they snarled, loudly, pointedly and to Remus Lupin’s face.

The fifth question of “Your girlfriend?” whilst looking pointedly at Sirius had Remus ready to bite the next student who asked, regardless of the consequences. Sirius, on the other hand, was not made of such stern stuff. The second request he’d heard had Sirius making a powerful lunge at the querent. Quidditch-level reflexes were the only thing that save the ‘him’ askee becoming a ‘her’ in a matter of seconds. The Slytherins were a little more circumspect around the dog after that.

The remaining prefects, sixth and seventh year students, had cooperated nicely with Dumbledore during the search for the missing students, and continued to behave whilst Remus was in sight, but they secretly wished themselves in the shoes of Draco and Pansy; the new heroes of Slytherin. Still, until the return of the missing fifth years the Slytherins, most of whom supported Voldemort, had Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle to venerate. The two were treated to a degree of deference they had never felt before; the fact that they were locked in the fifth year boys’ room did nothing to dull their sense of triumph.

Having made their own sweep of the Tower, Remus and Sirius parked themselves at key points in the hope of catching Draco and Pansy on their return. Remus seated himself in the middle of the common room, and woe to any Slytherin who wandered through. Sirius, on the other hand, was the one to actually catch Draco and Pansy. The missing two attempted to regain the Tower through a little known ‘back’ entrance. Little known, that is, to the current residents of Hogwarts. The Marauders in their day knew this entrance of old. Sirius found it almost karmic that Draco and Pansy would use the same entrance that he and James used so successfully in tormenting the young Severus Snape.

Herding the two back towards the common room, Sirius was amazed to note the level of anxiety that Draco Malfoy was giving off. If he’d been in human form he’d have missed it, but his animagus nose was far superior, and Draco smelt of fear whilst Pansy Parkinson was cool and unaffected. What could have happened that would put the fear of someone into Draco and not Pansy was a conundrum. The conundrum became even more so when the sight of Remus Lupin relaxed Draco.

“And where have you been?” Remus asked in as intimidating manner as he could, which in general was not likely to faze either of the two miscreants. The fact that Draco refused to meet his eyes sent alarm bells ringing in Remus’ head. He may not have had Sirius’ nose eye view of Draco, but he too remembered Mr Malfoy of old. Arrogant was term he would have used, cowed was not.

“On a date, Sir,” Pansy said confidently. “Is anything wrong?”

Her question was actually the rather stupid, even Draco rolled his eyes at it. ‘Of course something’s wrong’, he thought. ‘What in the world are Remus Lupin and Sirius Black doing in the Slytherin Tower’? Draco had recognised the dog, though he gave no indication of the fact.

“Not really. It’s just that we have some students missing and you were two of them. Professor Dumbledore will be pleased to hear you are safe and well,” Remus replied in a steady voice, all the while trying to catch Draco’s eyes. ‘Something serious is wrong here’, he thought to himself. “I’ll floo Professor Dumbledore now. I expect he’ll want a chance to talk to you… personally.”

Still riding the high of being one of the youngest Death Eaters, Pansy answered back without consideration. “Actually I’m a bit tired. Draco wore me out. I was thinking of going straight to bed.” The imitation blush was almost too much for any of the men present, regardless of form.

“Well, I’m afraid that given the current circumstances you will have to find the energy to go see Professor Dumbledore. It’s after all only a floo away and I can always toss you in, if need be.” Remus looked ready to do just that. Striding across the common room Remus floo’d the Hospital wing.

Minerva’s face appeared. “Harry’s just woken up, Remus,” she said by way of greeting. “Do you want to bring those two over? We can lock the Tower down now that all the Slytherins are accounted for.”

“After you, Miss Parkinson,” Remus bowed to the fuming young lady. Looking to Sirius, he signalled that the dog should accompany Draco.

Re-appearing in the Hospital wing, Remus was surprised to see Harry sitting on a bed next to the one Ron Weasley slumbered in. What surprised him even more was the force which Harry launched himself across the room at Draco Malfoy. The young Gryffindor had Malfoy in a stranglehold so fast the adults were hard pressed to get to the struggling pair apart before Harry choked the life out of Draco. Thinking back later, Remus was just as glad Harry had gone for the physical attack; if he’d spelled Draco the end might have been somewhat messy.

“Get him off me,” Draco tried to say around Harry’s tightening grip, “he’s gone stark staring bonkers.”

“Sirius, a hand please,” Dumbledore said, taking in the strength Harry was using to maintain his hold on Draco’s neck. With Sirius’ help, Remus was able to separate the two combatants. What surprised Dumbledore was that Draco immediately hid behind Remus and refused to come out. Harry, on the other hand, directed his gaze at the other Slytherin and the fact that he was a gentleman was the only reason Pansy wasn’t unconscious on the floor; that and the fact that Harry had a feeling that Dumbledore would intervene.

“They were there!” Harry finally whispered in a voice that promised death to them both, when it became obvious that he was not going to be allowed to rip the two Slytherins to shreds. Draco paled, but Pansy just smirked. “They were there and they know precisely what happened to Hermione and the others, so if you won’t ask Snape,” the last said dripping with contempt, “ask these two what happened.”

The fact that Professor Snape was still absent sent a shiver through Draco. Pansy, just smiled, assuming that the Potions Master was now happily involved in harvesting. None of the adults present mentioned where Severus was, not being aware of the children’s thoughts; they assumed this might make them a little more forthcoming. The knowledge that Severus Snape was currently comatose was not deemed appropriate for them to know.

“Well?” Dumbledore asked, “Where have you two been?”

“On a date.” Pansy stuck to the story she’d told Remus, after all it was illegal to use Veritaserum on minor without their parent’s consent, even if the minor volunteered which was not going to happen.

“Mr Malfoy?” Dumbledore turned his formidable gaze on the blonde Slytherin, “Is there something you want to tell me?” ‘I’m getting tired of that question’, he thought wearily as he waited for Draco to answer, though he had to admit it was a first asking it of Draco.

“No, Sir. Like Pansy said, we were on a date,” Draco finally answered, but without a hint of his usual arrogance. Instead he kept scratching at his right arm, not the left, where the Dark Mark resided.

“Alright, you will return to the Tower. We will be keeping all students locked in tonight whilst we continue to work on accounting for everyone,” Dumbledore said, without actually explaining what he meant.

Pansy turned to leave immediately. She, after all she wanted to bathe in the glory of tonight’s exploits. So wrapped up in her own private fantasy of being feted by all in the Tower, she failed to notice the verbal trap. She knew who was missing; she didn’t need to ask.

Draco in the meantime was scratching even worse at his arm. “Sir, I think I might have an allergy,” he said by way of explanation.

“Would you like to see Madame Pomfrey?” Dumbledore asked, his customary twinkle suddenly flashing bright.

“Yes please.”

“In that case, Sirius, would you mind escorting Miss Parkinson back to the Slytherin Tower. Remus, you stay here with Mr Malfoy. Mr Potter, I’d like a chance to talk to you in private.”

Harry shot a scathing look at Draco, but given that he had yet to fully brief the Order on what he’d seen in ‘Voldy-vision’ he followed Dumbledore from the infirmary. He watched with open loathing as Pansy Parkinson was escorted away by Sirius. Only when they were out of sight did he realise that Dumbledore had allowed Sirius to move around the ground outside of his animagus form. “Sir,” he asked, worrying about his godfather, “if word gets back to the Ministry that Sirius is here...”

“I can’t see any Slytherin letting on, or for that matter being believed, even if they do. Remember that most of them consider him a hero. He was after all, he was the one that helped Voldemort bring your parents down,” Dumbledore explained.

“And why didn’t anyone tell me about today?” Harry asked, a frown making the ‘scar’ stand out even more on his forehead.

“Because we foolishly thought that Voldemort would revel today and that we could use intelligence gathered from our own,” he sighed. “We had no idea of the type of attack Voldemort had planned, or even that the wards of Hogwarts could be breached in that way.”

“I’m not sure how to put this, Sir, but I don’t think ‘our own’ is really ours,” Harry said, understanding that Dumbledore spoke of Professor Snape.

Dumbledore strode along silently thinking on Harry’s words. What had Severus done? The question was unlikely to be answered soon if Poppy’s estimates were at all correct, and they had three children to find. Currently Harry was the only one with information that appeared willing to share. The problem was that what he was willing to share was likely to be coloured by Harry’s own perceptions of Severus, which were not good.

“I’ll wait till we have most of us gathered, then you only need go over what you saw just the once.” With that Dumbledore quickened the pace back to his office.

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Harry was only too happy tell of what he’d seen. In fact he’d been trying with some considerable urgency to get someone from the Order to listen to him from the moment he had awoken. The fact that Molly Weasley hadn’t instantly apparated away to find Hermione and the others sickened him. What he failed to realise was that Molly had a similar fear that it was already too late to help the missing children. All she could hope was that the sacrifice would eventually be worth it; unfortunately for Molly this time such thoughts failed to help, very much like the thought that Harry’s parents’ sacrifice would also eventually be ‘worth it’.

Dumbledore, upon returning to his office, surreptitiously cast an ‘emotia slumberius’ on Harry in an attempt to make the telling easier on all. Harry spoke in his deadened voice of the barbarity, the cruelty and, most importantly, of Professor Snape’s involvement in the whole process of initiating the new Death Eaters. That Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson had been initiated was a severe shock to the gathered members of the Order; at that point Dumbledore prayed that his suspicions concerning Draco Malfoy would bear out, but that battle he left to Remus. For now they needed to know what they could.

Harry concentrated fiercely on the details he’d seen, without actually dwelling on what he said. This was his way of dealing with the thought of what might have happened to Hermione and the other children. He knew that all of the adults had been killed, but his last memories of Professor Snape had him walking off with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and the Gryffindors literally in tow. The fact that Draco and Pansy were back, and the Gryffindors still unaccounted for panicked him, but as Dumbledore finally ordered Mad-eye Moody to investigate the site of the initiations, Harry settled again.

Harry, sitting shell-shocked was as surprised as everyone else when Remus Lupin’s voice sounded from the floo. “Albus, you need to come here now.”

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“I’m not sure how long Madame Pomfrey is going to be,” Remus said by way of opening gambit.

Draco actually looked up surprised at the comment. He’d stopped scratching almost as soon as Parkinson had left, instead he had remained standing in the middle of the Hospital room with a rather pensive look on his face, he started to wrap his arms around himself as if the room was deathly cold. The look on his face was somewhat reminiscent of Hermione Granger when she had a difficult problem to solve.

Remus was surprised when Draco addressed him in a diffident manner, given Draco’s normal behaviour when dealing with Remus Lupin in the past: arrogant, and every inch a Malfoy. “Sir, does the fact that you’ve done something because it is expected mean you’ve done it willingly?”

Remus’ sense of dread increased as he heard the quaver in the voice of this normally supremely confident Slytherin. Remus Lupin, answering one of the great wisdom-defining questions, wisely gave Draco Malfoy his complete and undivided attention. “That is a question we all have to answer for ourselves, Draco,” he said carefully watching the young boy. Tonight is when he will become a Man’, Remus thought to himself, ‘I wonder what sort’?

“But if you haven’t done it willingly, but still done it, does that make you a coward?” Gryffindors were known for the overt, wear-it-on-their-sleeves courage, but that didn’t mean the other houses didn’t have measures of courage as well. Remus’ assessment of Draco increased considerably, and he allowed himself a faint glimmer of hope.

“Only if you never ask the questions you are currently asking yourself. Everyone makes choices, Draco, sometimes bad, sometimes good. Recognising a bad choice and having the strength of will to admit it, and to do something about it, that takes courage.” ‘What do you know, Draco, what happened’? Remus feared he would soon know the answers to his questions and they were not likely to good answers.

Draco, away from any sycophantic support had realised that his action today was not the thing of glory he expected them to be, the fact that he watched and done nothing whilst his cousin was tortured and killed weighed on his mind; was that really what Voldemort was about. In fact he was even regretting that Hermione Granger had been killed, and that, he realised, could be placed firmly at his door. He had been the one to get Granger. It was going to be so glorious seeing the over-achieving Gryffindor brainiac get hers, except it hadn’t been anything like that. More like focussing a magnifying lens at ants and watching them fry. Thinking hard on his actions as he thought about Remus Lupin’s comments, he started to retch; once started he couldn’t stop; at this moment his House Head was probably methodically ‘harvesting’ the children he had helped to kill.

Remus reacted swiftly to Draco’s distress. Wrapping his arm about the boy he held him whilst Draco spasmed in his arms, sobbed, and finally broke into a gut-wrenching wail. “He killed them, he killed them,” Draco whimpered. The true horror hit Remus though when Draco Malfoy, scion of the line, cried “and, by Merlin, I helped him.” Draco curled up into a tight ball, and Remus was hard-pressed to hear him.

“Helped who?” Remus asked in the manner of one stuck in the path of an on-coming train.

“Professor Snape.” And with that the boy collapsed into Remus’ embrace weeping, softly for his own lost innocence.

‘Dumbledore has to know’, Remus thought, but there was no way he was leaving the child. ‘Oh, Severus, what have you done? What have you done’? Throwing a pinch of floo powder at the chimney he called “Albus, you need to come here now.”

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Severus slowly swam up from the depths of oblivion. “This is going to hurt,” he murmured as he approached consciousness. If it weren’t for the driving need to speak with Albus Dumbledore, he would gladly have remained locked tight in Morpheus’ embrace. Memories of the day’s deeds, however, drove him to seek consciousness, and aided by Poppy’s stabilizing magics he was finally able to open one eye, just.

The sight that greeted him was not what he had expected. The last thing he remembered was collapsing at Dumbledore’s feet with albeit a sarcastic thought aimed at himself of ‘that was fun’. Instead of looking up to the ceiling of the Hospital wing he was greeted by the more familiar ceiling of his own quarters. The fact that he been returned to his quarters without even being remotely aware of the fact was an uncomfortable thought. Incipient panic was averted however, when he noticed he was still fully clothed, only his outer cloak had been removed. ‘Thank Merlin, someone had some sense’.

“Severus?” Poppy’s face came into view.

“Yes, what do you want? Can’t a man die in peace?” he croaked out, or attempted to. Luckily Poppy was a skilled reader of ‘at death’s door speech’. Failing to hear his own voice, Severus’ only thought was of the ‘real’ damage he’d like to do to one Pansy Parkinson; that girl really had enjoyed being able to torture someone without fear of repercussions. She was going to get her reward, but not today, he mused, mentally cataloguing the extensive damage present in his shell of a body. He actually didn’t think he would wake up this time. Now, he had to face Dumbledore, in many ways a far more terrifying person than Voldemort.

“Are you able to tell us what happened today? We have students missing, and the Order has been called in,” Poppy asked, though she was loathe to. Severus was not going to be up to much questioning.

“Send for the Headmaster, woman. Immediately!” Severus managed to croak before closing his eyes again. Dreading the coming interview he mentally reviewed what he could, and could not, tell.

Dumbledore must have been waiting for Poppy to call as he stepped from the floo in Severus’ quarters almost instantly. Severus was interested to note that Dumbledore then revoked the floo access to the castle’s network.

Dumbledore looked down at his Potions Master, a look of regret and sorrow marking his face. The customary twinkle was absent, and Severus was sure his news would sadden his mentor even more. “Poppy, could you leave us please?” Dumbledore asked the medi-witch.

Memories of similar requests when Voldemort first came to power had Poppy leaving the rooms without a backward glance. Severus would have things to say that only Albus should hear and the longer she remained, the longer it would be before the wounded man would talk. “Try not to tax him too much, Albus, it’s still touch and go,” she cautioned knowing full well that both men would ignore her.

“Severus, was it worth it?” Dumbledore asked without any preliminaries, Draco and Harry’s stories fresh in his mind.

“I don’t know,” Severus answered weakly. “What do you know?” he asked, afraid of the answer.

“Hermione Granger, Henry Smithson and Andrew Dray are missing. Two of your Slytherins were also absent for a large part of the day but both Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson have since been found. According to Miss Parkinson they were on a date. Mr Malfoy tells a different story.”

‘Great’, thought Severus, ‘and I wonder what that brat Potter knows’.

As if hearing his thoughts, the Headmaster continued, “Mr Potter was found unconscious in my office. He has since awoken and is currently briefing the Order on his observations, it appears he was bound into Voldemort’s mind for most of the day.”

‘This just keeps getting better and better, dammit’, Severus mused. “Albus, my friend, I think you are going to have to find some form of punishment to apply,” Severus finally said. “I’m not going to be able to satisfy your questions, and I fear my actions will...”

“Cause me some difficulty?” Dumbledore finished. “My friend, is there any hope?”

“Only if things remain as they seem,” was all Severus could say.

Understanding the unspoken cues Dumbledore nodded. “When should I announce your ‘punishment?”

“Not until tomorrow, please.”

“Alright, you are not here until then, I presume.”

Severus looked at Dumbledore, and colour drained from the Headmaster’s face as Severus answered, “It is necessary.”