Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either...just for fun.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to EverMystique and to DutchessOfArcadia for combing through this and helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know.

Thank you, Jay, for the beautiful banner. I absolutely love it!

The second task had been a success. As soon as Hermione had surfaced, gasping for air to fill her lungs, all Severus had wanted to do was to personally check the nail beds of her fingers for signs of oxygen starvation and any sign of hypoxia or asphyxia. From where he'd been standing, he didn't see any blue discoloration of her skin or lips, although she'd been trembling from the cold. He'd watched Poppy's wand as she'd made her diagnostic charms and had mentally sighed with relief when the tip hadn't glowed red or yellow.

He knew that Poppy was well aware that any sign of yellow would indicate severe reaction to the combination of the sopophorous beans and Death Adder venom. Certain that the students had been all right, Severus had maintained an air of confidence and followed the Headmaster back to the castle. However he'd visited Poppy after lunch to assess her potions requirements, relieved that none of the girls had shown any sign of poisoning.

He was pleased...his experimental potions had been a success.

Severus wrote a detailed and comprehensive account in his journal to document his experiments and the results. Should his involvement ever come to question regarding his use of the Dark Arts on students, he wanted to make sure that his reasoning was sound and above reproach. The school governors were touchy enough about his previous use of and knowledge of the Dark Arts. He placed Barty Crouch's and Ludo Bagman's letters of approval for the potions and Dumbledore's letter of consent, after his entry. He felt a painful twinge in his Dark Mark and clamped a hand over it, gritting his teeth. When he became accustomed enough to the pain to ignore it, he stood and sought out the Headmaster.

Hermione had little time in the weeks following the second task for frivolous activities. She was glad that Harry was now tied with Cedric, but helping Harry had put her way behind in her own revision. He might be exempt from all exams, but she certainly wasn't. The good thing was that she'd managed to keep up on her essays. Granted, they were not as long as she'd done in the past. Her Charms and Transfiguration essays were every well documented, thanks to the countless hours searching through those two subjects in the library, but all her other subjects she'd relied on summarizing what references she'd found in the limited time she'd had, validating her choices with her opinions, and extrapolating on her theories and speculations.

She still maintained her high marks and had received praise from her professors...well, all but Professor Snape who simply wrote comments on her papers contradicting her theories and suggested different references which were more appropriate than the ones she'd used. Several times he'd even suggested she rewrite her essays to further explain her position to improve her mark from Acceptable to 'more acceptable.' He was such an infuriating man.

Also following the task, Rita Skeeter had written an outlandish article about her. Hermione hadn't cared about what that wench had written, but thanks to her lies, Hermione had received hate mail for weeks, some even containing dangerous substances like bubotuber pus and Wartcap and Bulbadox powder. Thankfully now all her mail was checked before owls were allowed to deliver it to her.

That wasn't the only thing; Hermione was concerned now, thinking about Sirius' suspicions about Barty Crouch. He'd been acting wonky ever since the end of the first task. Fudge's offer to help Harry cheat bothered her as well, and Hermione had noticed that Karkaroff was frequently trying to catch Professor Snape alone. He'd interrupted a lesson on the fifth of March, and Harry had mentioned that Karkaroff had shown Professor Snape something on his left forearm that day when class had been dismissed.

Later, during one of Hermione's detentions, Karkaroff had barged in and hissed something at Professor Snape, indicating his left forearm. Professor Snape had been in a horrible mood ever since both incidents. Sirius had told them during the last Hogsmeade weekend that Karkaroff was a Death Eater, but in Hermione's opinion the wizard was much too high-strung and the nervous type to be a Death Eater. However, after the commotion he'd caused during her detention, she wasn't so sure anymore.

Hedwig flew into the Great Hall the last Saturday of Easter hols, bearing a huge package clutched in her talons. She deposited her package in front of Harry and Ron, landing in front of her. Hermione gave Hedwig a strip of bacon as Harry opened the package, since Ron was busily eating. Inside were smaller packages.

"Ron, it's from your mum," Harry stated, grasping a large present and handing it to Ron. He frowned as he picked up a much smaller one, examining the tag. "It's for you," he said with a furrowed brow as he gave it to Hermione.

"Whoa," Ron said as opened his, exposing a huge dragon-sized egg. "Looks like mum got you one as well, Harry."

The paper on Harry's egg had not been as well taped and had fallen open. He pushed off the rest, exposing another huge dragon-sized golden egg. "Suppose she's glad I survived the dragon."

Hermione looked at her own chicken-sized egg and sighed, trying to suppress her disappointment. Surely Mrs. Weasley would know me well enough to know the truth. Certainly she wouldn't believe everything Rita Skeeter writes? "Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?"* she asked softly so as not to attract attention.

"Yeah," Ron said, his mouth full of toffee, "gets it for the recipes. Oi, Harry, you want to see what Percy wrote?"*

Hermione had been preoccupied with her own meager egg to have noticed the letter in Harry's hand wasn't from Mrs. Weasley. She leaned over to read the formal script and frowned. The letter was short, to the point and quite rude, but what else did they expect from a prat such as Percy. She shoved her egg in her bag and rose to go. "I'm going to the library," she announced.

The boys were too wrapped up in their current mystery to do more than utter, "Yeah, see you," as she walked away. But then she'd come to expect that response whenever she mentioned the library or revision.

She pulled out her things, sighing when she removed the meager egg and placed it beside her. "It's not fair. She should know me. It's not like I haven't stayed in her house over the summer," she mumbled to herself, distracted, rolling her quill in her fingers. Shaking her head she tried to focus on her work, but the implication of the egg haunted her attentions. Finally she dropped the quill. "Of all the... It doesn't matter what they think," she snarled, barely above a whisper as she grabbed the egg and shoved it into her bag.

"No, you shouldn't." The softly spoken voice made Hermione's hand freeze as she turned to look at him.

Professor Snape was looming over her shoulder just as he did frequently in class. Nervously she asked, "Pardon me, Professor?"

He leaned down slightly, his dark eyes glinting. "You should know better than to let the ignorant words or immature actions of others impugn your opinion of yourself." He stood suddenly, his gaze sweeping the other students sitting near her, which made each one look away, heads bowed over their work.

Hermione stared bewildered at his retreating back as he swept away, his robes billowing behind him.

Ludo Bagman bounced on his heels in the staffroom as he explained his ideas for the final task. Severus was utterly appalled. "I worked out quite a list with your Care of Magical Creatures professor, Rebeus Hagrid."

Severus cringed inside at the pronouncement. He wondered what Hagrid's idea of 'challenging' magical creatures were, considering what he thought were appropriate for students' lessons.

"Acromantulas – we hear that you have fully mature Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest. We are having a Chimaera, a Manitcore, and a Harpy sent from Greece, a Cockatrice from Andover in Hampshire, a Graphorn from the Appalachian Mountains, and a Nundu from east Africa," Ludo rambled off as if very pleased with himself.

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Minerva exclaimed, reaching out a hand and gripping Severus' forearm in a death grip. "They are simply too dangerous and totally unpredictable! One breath and the students will die!" she exclaimed, oblivious to his attempt to dislodge her claws from his person.

Ludo was carrying on as if oblivious to her outcry, "... a Lethifold, tough time we had finding one. Not easily captured but I've heard that they were successful."

"Absolutely not! They are nearly impossible to contain!" Minerva shouted, finally letting go as she turned to the Headmaster. "Albus!"

Ludo's smile faltered. "But Potter can do a Patronus! I had word that the boy can..."

Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Why not bring back the dragons or a sphinx. Hagrid's pet dog, Fluffy..."

"Sphinx... Oh, yes, Professor Snape, splendid! Now you're thinking!" Ludo replied swinging his hands excitedly, as if under the impression that Severus approved of his choices. "And Hagrid has that interesting Blast-Ended thing in his paddock."

"I must insist, Ludo, that the Nundu be returned to the wild. None of the champions are well-enough equipped to deal with a fully-grown Nundu. As for the Chimaera and Manitcore, I insist that they be immature. They pose too much of a threat otherwise," Dumbledore said with that damnable benevolent grandfather tone he liked to use. The old man turned to Hagrid for a moment. "There will be no more talk of dragons, sorry, Hagrid, but I think you'll have your hands full with the creatures we're expecting. I will consider your use of the Skrewt or Fluffy... but I am reluctant to have a Graphorn at the school, unless it, too, is quite immature. I do know a man who has a sphinx he may lend us, and I know of a few spells we'll employ..."

Severus laced his hands together and steepled his index fingers under his lower lip, smirking to himself as he listened to the Headmaster curtail Ludo's plans. Many of the books Potter would need were in the Restricted Section where only Mr. Diggory would have access to them. No matter, I have unlimited access to those volumes. I'll only have to invent ways of passing them to Miss Granger, again.

Pomona looked up from where Percy was jotting down Ludo's suggestions beside her. "Devil's snare? Strangling Ivy? It's bad enough, Headmaster, that they want to use Wandering Boxwood, but those plants are dangerous."

"And Potter has already managed to get out of Devil's Snare's entanglement," Severus said coolly with a satisfied smirk. "I doubt he'd have forgotten how, and I'm certain the boy can learn the Slicing Hex." And just in case, I'll mention them to Miss Granger next lesson.

"So when do yeh expec' the critters to arrive, Dumbledore, sir?" Hagrid asked, his beetle black eyes twinkling in anticipation.

At the end of May, Ludo Bagman had taken the four champions down to the Quidditch pitch to explain about the third task, but all he'd admitted to knowing was that there would be creatures and spells in a maze. A maze they had to get to the center of to win.

Considering the unusual essay Professor Snape set on the proper means of harvesting and preparation techniques for Strangling Ivy and Devil's Snare, she was sure it was far more than just simple spells and magical creatures. He'd already covered that particular subject in their second year. Hermione was quite anxious about this task as it was the last possible time whoever put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire had to kill him.

The mysterious disappearance of Mr. Crouch and Viktor's attack seemed far too coincidental to her. Harry kept insisting that Mr. Crouch was apparently insane, and that his mumblings were incoherent, but he was obviously wanting to get a message to Dumbledore. Even Sirius felt that things were too dangerous, and Moody and Hagrid were both worried.

Every possible moment was spent helping Harry learn as many hexes and jinxes to defend against magical creatures as she could. She and Harry were reading up on as many level three and four magical creatures as they could.

She stopped by the library after dinner to return her books to the trolley and saw Professor Snape conversing with Madam Pince. She smiled at him and walked to the Bestiary section to select more books.

She'd had four stacked beside her and was scanning the context of another when the sneering voice of Professor Snape said softly in her ear, "Just another postulant blowhole, Miss Granger."

"Pardon me, Professor?" she asked, looking at the picture of Guillaume Bainbrigge fending off a griffin in the Magical Academia Naturae Curiosorum as he lifted a thick book off the shelf.

"Don't waste your time on insignificant creatures," he hissed and thrust it at her as he exchanged it for the book in her hands. He drew another, dropping it on the one he'd given her, making her arms sag momentarily from the force.

Hermione read the title of both books, Mythical Creatures of the Ancient Mediterranean and Magical Creatures: Monsters of Greek Mythology, and looked up to ask him... but he was gone. She picked up Defending Yourself From Claws and Teeth, Fighting Ferocious Fangs, Tussling Treacherous Talons, and Sparring Against Savage Stingers and carried them to Madam Pince's desk to check out.

Professor Snape wondered how far Miss Granger had progressed in the magical creatures and bestiary section of the library. He tapped the finger of his hand holding his quill as he considered following through with his plan.

Miss Granger was carefully checking the amount of thorny spurge sap in her beaker, her brown eyes squinting slightly as she made sure it was precisely to the line, before dumping it in her potion. She was doing so much better than her classmates, but that was to be expected.

When the class was over, he detained Miss Granger and made her wait until her overly curious friends had left the classroom. "Miss Granger, what is the first defense against noxious or virulent fumes?" he asked without looking up at her.

She smiled, knowing the answer, of course. "The Bubble-Head Charm."

He wondered if she was adept with the spell. "Ineffective against Garrotting Gas or Strangling Gas," he stated and shoved several books across his desk toward her. "I expect you to have read these and to write two feet, in brief answers, to my question in regard to the potion induced fumes I've marked."

Hermione she picked up the books, and her eyes widened at the titles.

"Yes, they are from the Restricted Section," he said smoothly, sitting up and leaning forward, indicating the books with his quill. "You will not show these to anyone, nor let your friends know that you have these books, but I cannot stop you from telling Potter what you've discerned from the assignment. Especially in regards to these two gasses I've just mentioned. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, tucking the book in her bag.

"In addition, if either one of your two friends can demonstrate the Bubble-Head Charm properly on Tuesday, I'll award Gryffindor twelve points."

Her eyes widened at the offer of earning house points, just like he knew they would, but she recovered quickly. "Yes, sir, I'll make sure we know it," she said with an excited smile.

"You may go," he said, dipping his quill to resume his grading. He smiled as she hurried from the room. It wasn't cheating, letting her read the books. Besides, Mr. Diggory had been given access to the Restricted Section, something he knew that was far too dangerous to allow Potter to do. At least this way, Miss Granger will show Potter what he needs to know about the various gasses proposed as obstacles in the maze. He only hoped that Potter would learn the spells well enough to pass through the gasses. I'll quiz her on them Tuesday. That should make her impress its importance on Potter.

Hermione was quite proud of Harry. Not only was he actually doing much better in their classes, but he was really trying to learn all he could for the upcoming challenge. Hermione slipped into the library before her next class to leave several of her and Harry's books on the trolley. Checking her watch, she decided she had a few minutes to spare to grab a two more defense books to read at lunch. She was selecting one for Harry, an O.W.L. level book, Entangling Your Way Out of a Sticky Situation, when she felt someone take hold of her shoulder, making her jump in surprise and several books fall. "Oh my! I didn't see you... er, Professor? Did you want something?" she exclaimed, startled and quickly recovered her wits.

"Don't topple the entire library, you silly girl," Professor Snape sneered as he flicked his wand, sending the books magically back to their self. "I am surprised you'd risk being late to my class by coming in here."

"I, er, wanted to exchange my book," she replied nervously, quickly grabbing a book and turning to go. "I won't be late if I walk with you, though, will I?"

"Yes you would, however, I won't dock points if you do," he stated and slipped three books into her bag. "Restricted Section tomes...and I expect you to keep quiet about it."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she stared at him, amazed that he was allowing her to have them, again. "Why?" she asked. His eyes narrowed, and she blushed. "It's because I'm helping Harry, isn't it?"

"Potter is inept to deal with these challenges at his age...and before you defend him, it's a fact not a disparagement. These tasks are designed for the seventh-year level student, advanced N.E.W.T. level. Do you remember what I told you about doing spells above your year level?

"They deplete you," she admitted, fully remembering his reaction when he, his younger self, had found out he'd been teaching her spells above her year level.

He nodded once. "Yes, and unlike you, Potter is not capable of it," he said coolly.

"Harry can..."

"Not. He might have the ability to manage it, but not the knowledge to control the spell or handle the magic needed. Go check those out."

Hermione hurried over to Madam Pince's desk, quietly accepting her chastisement for running in her library, and turned, surprised that Professor Snape was waiting for her.

"Anyone can use a spell, shouting the words to give the necessary force to do it, but that is not controlling the magical force or casting the spell correctly," he said casually, continuing their conversation when she approached him.

She followed him from the library, enthralled by what he was saying.

"Each time he does that, he risks depleting himself. You must always check him for signs of depletion when you both try the spells in the higher year levels. I expect you to have either myself or Madam Pomfrey check you as well."

""Yes, sir," she simply said, hoping he'd continue, but he didn't, walking down the stairs in silence. When they reached the corridor on the first floor, she asked, "Sir, why are you helping Harry?"

His head snapped in her direction and his eyes narrowed, but curiosity made her press on. "I mean, you keep giving me books from the Restricted Section to help him. I can't help but wonder why?"

A tick appeared on his cheek, but he didn't answer her, walking steadily down the marble staircase and across the Entrance Hall. He constantly glared at the students that gawked at her and Professor Snape as they passed, making the students scatter in his wake. However, he stopped her on the stairs as they descended to the dungeons. "I am not helping Potter cheat. I am merely giving you the same books Mr. Krum and Mr. Diggory have referenced. Now, get to class."

Startled by his sudden change of tone, she hurried on ahead and worked her way through the students waiting on Professor Snape to find Harry. "I have more books," she whispered.

Harry look at her as if that was not news at all. "You always have books, Hermione..."

"From the Restricted Section," she hissed softly, ducking her head while leaning closer to him. "They are ones Cedric and Viktor have read."

"Wicked!" Ron said, looking at her bag as if able to read the titles as Harry smiled, obviously eager to see them as well.

"Well, why are you all not in the classroom?" Professor Snape called out as he opened the door.

"Because it was locked," Harry mumbled, and both Hermione and Professor Snape gave him an angry scowl.

After all, he is helping you to survive the next challenge, you ungrateful prat, she wanted to say to him, but kept her thoughts to herself.

"Inside and set up your caldrons," Professor Snape said, adding, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for your insolence," as Harry walked past him, then said softly, "Five points to Gryffindor for your acknowledgement, Miss Granger."

She stared at him, wondering what he was on about. Gads! Unless he... but that's impossible! But the students say he can... No!

"The directions are on the board. Why are you not starting?" he asked the class curtly.

Hermione hurried over to her worktable.

"Besides, I have those two books from the Restricted Section to finish reading."

"How did you get them?" Harry asked softly.

She didn't want to tell him. One minute she had been elbow deep in suds, cleaning a cauldron for her detention...the next minute Professor Snape had told her to dry her hands, then handed her several books, and dismissed her. She'd tried to ask him about the books, but he'd simply told her to get out of his classroom before he changed his mind and not to let anyone see her with the books.

"I got permission," she said, hoping that whatever they found, Harry wouldn't need the potion hidden in her trunk again. They'd been lucky he hadn't been disqualified by the Department of Magical Games and Sports for using the potion against the dragon. "I have several spells that might help you that we can practice."

Her last few detentions, Professor Snape had taught her how to use some of the defensive spells, such as the Patronus Charm, which she knew was a seventh-year charm, and way above her age level. He'd also given her a potion to help her body boost her magical energy while she slept and a phial of sleeping potion.

"Maybe I'll ask Professor Moody, too. He's an Auror, maybe he knows some stuff that might help," Harry mumbled dejectedly.

"You can ask, but I don't think he's allowed to tell you, considering that he knows what the challenge is. We'll practice what we have and keep looking for others. At least, you'll be somewhat ready for whatever you have to fight," she reassured him, hoping she sounded more optimistic than she felt.

Hermione was re-shelving her books when Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts' first champion, entered the aisle to return his. "How are you?" she asked with a slight nod and a smile. "Are you ready for this next challenge?" She knew that Harry had informed him about the dragons, but neither knew what they faced next.

Diggory looked at her slightly confused as he turned to face her. "I'm fine. I'm reviewing all my defensive spells from my past years, but it's rather frightening, you know, the idea of facing the unknown," he said and glanced over her shoulder. "How's Potter?"

Hermione chuckled. "Nervous. How else?"

Diggory nodded as he handed her a small stack of books rather than returning them to the shelf. "I'm sure you will come up with something," he said, turning to go. "I wish him luck."

"Thank you," she said, watching him go, confused as to why he'd think she wouldn't mind re-shelving his books. She picked up the first book, The Logical Approach to Defensive Magic by Albert Waffling, and shook her head with a knowing smile, certain that Diggory had just tried to give Harry a hand again.

On Monday, Professor Snape moved around the room, checking the progress of the students' potions. When he stepped behind Hermione, he leaned over and frowned. "Abysmal. I know you can do better," he sneered and emptied her cauldron with a flick of his wand. "Start over, and slice the leeches as I showed you."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from making an angry retort, knowing full well her potion was more than adequate; in fact, it had been a perfect shade of tangerine.

"What did you do to anger Snape?" Harry asked.

She shrugged. "I've no idea," she whispered back, flinching when Professor Snape looked up at her.

"Quietly," he snapped and glared at Harry.

Near the end of class, Professor Snape made one more circle of the class. "Bottle your potion and place it on my desk," he said to the class and stopped next to Hermione.

She looked up, knowing that her potion was incomplete. "You may stay to finish the potion."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded and walked away. Hermione shrugged when Harry gave her an apologetic look. "At least he'll let me finish it. I won't get a zero for the day."

As soon as the last students left, he asked her for the books. "I have to return them to the library."

"I'm not done with the ones on magical creatures of the Appalachians," she stated, hoping to change his mind.

"How many times have you read it?" he asked with a sneer.

"Only twice... well, three, if you count the..."

"Then you have it memorized," he said with a smirk. "Read the sections marked in this book. Make sure to use the spells written on the slip of parchment under the flap before opening the book. It screams," He handed her two others. "Do you still have Lockhart's books?"

"No, sir," she replied, startled by the question. He'd hated Lockhart in her second year and called him a narcissistic, counterfeit fop and a coward, which is why she'd left all his autographed books at home.

He scowled at her. "Get them. His account of fending off a Lethifold is dissimilar to Flavius Belby's account in Papua New Guinea in 1782. I expect a full comparison between the two accounts on my desk on Friday. You will also want to compare his chronicle of his account with a manticore with that of Norvel Twonk. Likewise, Lockhart's exploits of his adventures in Egypt should be examined carefully, especially in dealing with a sphinx, serpopard, and an axex."

"Sir, what does this have to do with Potions?" she asked, confused, quickly running what she knew of these creatures over in her mind. A sphinx...a lion with a human head... and intelligence; an axex is creature with a hawk's head on a dog's body... also thought to be a griffin, and a serpopard...the body of a leopard with a long neck and head of a... cobra!

"It's my assignment, for your benefit, and I expect you to do it," he growled at her.

"Er, yes, sir," she stammered and left, now absolutely certain he was telling her what some of the obstacles of the next task were. A manticore, Lethifold, sphinx, serpopard and an axex! Oh, Harry! She hoped he still had his copies of Lockhart's books.

Severus took a calming breath before he touched his Dark Mark with his wand and Apparated. Mr. Diggory was dead, Potter was cut and bleeding, and his account of what transpired in the graveyard Severus had just arrived in did not bode well for him. Taking another long, deep breath to carefully compose himself, he stepped forward, turning to scan the area for the Dark Lord, slightly unnerved to be standing on a disturbed grave next to a toppled cauldron still containing remnants of a foul smelling potion.

"Severus, how disappointing," a cold voice said from his left.

Severus immediately bowed, almost prostrating himself on the ground. "I was detained, my Lord," he said clearly, keeping his eyes cast downward. He could hear the Dark Lord approach.

"Do you defy me?"

"No, never my Lord; I was standing beside Dumbledore when the summons came. With the disappearance of Potter and the Diggory boy, chaos erupted. I thought it best to stay, maintain my cover so that I could tell you what was done and said at the castle," Severus said as calmly as he could, but dared not rise.

"But why take so long to come to me?" the Dark Lord asked, the tip of his wand now sliding down Severus' shoulder.

He suppressed the impulse to shudder. "When Potter returned, holding Diggory's dead body, things got intense, interesting," Severus said smoothly. "I knew... My Dark Mark, it had been growing darker all year. I knew something was... I was able to keep abreast of the situation, Dumbledore's decisions and... I knew it was you. By some miracle you'd returned, but the timing... My first thought was to come, defy the old fart, but then I realized the opportunity my precarious position afforded. I waited until Dumbledore ordered me to go to you." He wanted to add, I even showed my Dark Mark to that fool we have for a Minister as proof of your return, but the incompetent dunderhead still refuses to believe me. But, Dumbledore does.

He dared to look up and saw the anger in the red eyes. "By delaying, I have managed to retain my post, my task to spy on Dumbledore, to keep his faith in me and his belief that I am his servant, not yours," he added hoping to appease the wizard. He dropped his head again. "It was a risk I took to keep my place, the one you assigned me to all those years ago."

The silence was as oppressive as a Lethifold smothering a victim, until the Dark Lord spoke. "Why did you not try to find me, Severus, all those years? Why did you abandon me?"

"I can only beg you for my ignorance. I thought you dead. I, like so many, thought you finished, and though I deeply mourned your loss, I had to maintain the pretenses of being pleased. I know now that I was gravely mistaken and foolish to have believed... Forgive my ignorance and shortsightedness. I should have known," Severus said, inflicting the first and only signs of emotion in his voice, that of true remorse, as if he'd been unable to speak his shame without it.

Again the silence weighed heavily on him as he waited for the inevitable that was to come. His punishment.

"Why did you prevent me from obtaining what I'd needed to return, the Philosopher's Stone? Why did you assist Dumbledore in shielding it from me?"

Severus stiffened, shocked that his speech seemed to have appeased the Dark Lord. "My Lord, I had no idea it was you seeking the stone. If you had given me any indication it was you..."

"I did not trust you," the Dark Lord spat accusingly.

"I merely thought that Quirrell wanted the stone for his own gains...for riches beyond measure," Severus said, saying the last bit in a sneering tone. "Had I known, I could have aided rather than hindered you. You'd have come back to us three years earlier."

The Dark Lord scoffed at him. "Tell you! Confide in you? I was certain you'd become Dumbledore's scrooge, his loyal dog."

For good measure, certain that he was winning over the Dark Lord, Severus sighed. "I admit that I stayed in his good graces, built up his trust and reliance on me and my knowledge of the Dark Arts, but I assure you I only used Dumbledore to avoid Azkaban. Nothing more. I'm ashamed to admit that my position, the one I sought at your bequest, I retained at considerable groveling simply to remain out of prison."

The Dark Lord paced, rubbing his chin as he did so. "I see. Yes, I can see why such an arrangement would be preferable... and..." He turned around again, glaring at him once more. "Why have you been assisting Potter all these years?"

"I have the arduous job of teaching that insolent upstart Potions. He's nothing but a whelp of a boy with no apparent talent. There's certainly nothing extraordinary about him. He hardly listens in class or follows directions, other than how to not melt cauldrons in my classroom. He is nothing more than a mediocre, self-satisfied, arrogant waste of my time. He is so much like his father in every conceivable way. I have tried to have him expelled, numerous times, unsuccessfully because the old man favors him so. But I couldn't well kill him and retain my position at the school. However, this year, the signs were there. I had no idea that Alastor Moody was Barty Crouch Jr. I suspected Moody to be an imposter, but no proof or anything consequential to support my suspicions. Oh, Barty played him well, and his suspicions of me threw me off track more than once, I admit. But my Dark Mark indicated that something was afoot. Ever since it started growing darker I knew that this tournament was a means. I was waiting for you to make your move. Again, had I known of your plans I'd have been better able to assist Barty..." He looked around and frowned. "I saw Karkaroff leave just before I did. Has he come and gone?"

"Igor Karkaroff is a dead man," the Dark Lord sneered venomously. "Why have the others defied me and not joined the other Death Eaters here in the graveyard. Am I now considered so weak?"

Severus chose to remain quiet, taking the last as a rhetorical question.

"So you tell me you've been in Dumbledore's confidence all these years. Tell me everything, Severus," the Dark Lord said, transfiguring the cauldron into a throne and seating himself comfortably.

Severus boldly transfigured a tombstone into a comfortable chair and moved it to rest in front of the Dark Lord. "Where would you like me to begin?"

The Dark Lord laced his fingers together, although he'd watched Severus' audacity to make himself comfortable through narrowed eyes. "Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. How many survive, where do they meet, and have their numbers grown?"

Severus returned home, not ready to see the castle or face Dumbledore. Only that wasn't the real reason he sought the gloom of his home. He'd had an overwhelming sadness crush down on him the moment he'd betrayed Dumbledore, which deepened like a knife wound with each truth, and half-truth, he'd told the Dark Lord about Potter, knowing that by returning to the Dark Lord as his sycophant, he'd betrayed Hermione just as he'd betrayed Lily seventeen years ago.

~ T. B. C. ~

Author's Notes:

Yes, I added the events and dialogue that took place when the trio received Mrs. Weasley's Easter eggs. An asterisk denotes what is a direct quote or copied from the book. I couldn't help adding it in, plus it's a good way to show where we are in relation to the year, right?