Suspicious Mind

Lord Voldemort was, by nature, a person of suspicion and distrust; he therefore had one mantra locked away in his cold-blooded heart and mind: "keep your friends close and your enemies even closer". Not even his most loyal followers were ever given all the information that was in his head; they were each told only enough to allow them to complete a set task and no more, and only Voldemort himself could put all the pieces of the quite complex puzzle together.

It was hardly surprising, then, that he suspected that Severus Snape, close to the Hogwarts headmaster through his teaching post, could be playing both sides, though he wasn't absolutely confident in making such an assumption. He was unable to see anything in the wizard's mind that could compromise him, but however clever Severus was, he was more so, and he kept him close, playing with him at times as a cat plays with a mouse it plans to devour.

Another reason for keeping Severus close was the reality that his skill at potion making was unequalled by anyone else. He was finicky to a degree; nothing else mattered when Severus was brewing. The whole world could fall apart around his head, but he would be unwavering in his devotion to his current project. Voldemort was particularly fond of that level of commitment in his followers – if only he could find more supporters that were as dedicated as Severus. So, while Voldemort occasionally fantasised about getting rid of his personal potions brewer, he knew his value and allowed him to live until such time as he ceased to be of further use to him.

When Fenrir Greyback, that disgusting, mangy werewolf, had come to him whining that one of his packs to the far north had revolted, lured away by Remus Lupin, he knew he had the perfect task to test Severus's loyalties. It would not only appease the unkempt werewolf, but it would put his suspicious mind to rest once and for all. Severus would be given the task of killing the Order's resident werewolf.

There would be no need to present Severus with an option – the wizard would know without being told that failure to comply would result in torture and a slow, agonising death. For a wizard like Severus, his own survival would come before all else. Humans were so predictable, after all.

It seemed as though the Potter boy had learnt a thing or two since they had last met. He had obviously gained the knowledge of Occlumency, no doubt from that vexatious headmaster who was hiding behind his school, and Voldemort could no longer enter the boy's head.

No matter, he could find other ways to torment him. He would strike at his friends. He already had the Mudblood, and though sorely tempted to bait Potter with this knowledge, he knew that his plan for the unveiling of the Mudblood when they next met in battle was a sound one.

He could imagine the look on the boy's face when he recognised her. An evil half smile crossed his face as he closed his eyes and drank in the scene pictured within his mind.

Exquisite.

The Potter boy would fail to carry out his allotted task, the opposition would collapse, and he, Lord Voldemort, would be victorious. All would bow down to him, and Mudbloods and blood traitors would be eliminated from the wizarding world.

But first things first, he would have to call Severus and inform him of his plan to destroy the werewolf. The plan was perfect; whether Severus succeeded in carrying out his task or not, the outcome would be the loss of a valuable member of Dumbledore's precious Order.

Bringing his wand to his own left forearm, he concentrated on calling Severus, not too harshly at first, just enough to let him know that he was needed; Severus well knew the punishment that would be dealt out if he didn't answer the call quickly.

***

Dumbledore sat behind the desk in his office, scratching at his wiry beard with his left hand. So deep in thought was he that when Fawkes let out a high pitched trill, he paid no mind to the phoenix.

The N.E.W.T.s were over, and so was Harry's education at Hogwarts. Albus was mourning this a little, for how could he guide Harry to follow his ways without being a constant figure in the young man's life? There was so much more to teach Harry, and time was quickly running out.

Tom Riddle and his followers, the Death Eaters, were stepping up the war; however, instead of keeping it within the wizarding world, they were going after helpless Muggles. The Muggle authorities called it the work of terrorists, but the Order knew better. Every night there would be a random act of brutality and violence, and by the time Albus had a chance to gather the Order, all that was left of the site was a burning building and hovering over it in the sky would be the Dark Mark.

The headmaster sighed deeply. He knew this had to end and end soon. But Harry wasn't yet proficient enough to face Tom. He had wanted the boy to enjoy as much of his childhood as possible. Although Albus knew they were at war, he did have a conscience and had even, to a certain degree, encouraged some of Harry's recklessness. How was he to learn otherwise? Besides, he had Severus keep an eye on the boy and his friends, so he was never truly in danger.

His mind suddenly turned back to the present as a brief knock on the door heralded the arrival of the subject of his thoughts, and he sat up straighter in his chair.

"Come in, Harry."

A moment later the office door opened and a flushed looking Harry Potter entered the room, his eyes on the headmaster.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, yes, my boy. Oh, do please take a seat. Lemon drop?" Albus asked, holding out the bowl to the young man, a serene smile on his wrinkled face.

"No, thanks, sir," Harry replied, taking his seat.

"Oh, well, your loss then," Albus said, placing the bowl back onto the table.

Steepling his hands together, he looked over his half-moon spectacles into Harry's green eyes. He had grown into a fine, capable young man.

"Let me get straight to the point of this meeting. I was wondering what your plans are, Harry, now that you have completed your education?" Albus asked, showing no sign of the inner turmoil he was feeling.

Harry sat forward in his chair. "I thought perhaps I would join the Aurors – if my N.E.W.T. scores are good enough, that is." A frown marred his forehead, and for a split second, Albus didn't need Legilimency to see his wish to be a normal wizard without the constant threat of death and a war that he knew was bound to happen sooner rather than later.

"Ah, a fine plan, Harry, very fine indeed. Have you given any thought to where you would live whilst going through the training?"

"No, sir, I haven't thought that far ahead. As you know, I still have the summer, and Ron and I were talking about perhaps going to the Burrow for that."

"I see," Albus replied, his forehead crinkling into a frown.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.

"Harry, may I be blunt with you?"

"Of course, sir," Harry replied, his green eyes anxiously looked at the aged wizard before him.

"It's just that I don't know how safe you would be at the Burrow, Harry," Albus said, and he let out a little sigh. "As Tom's forces grow daily, I fear that the Order are stretched rather thin, and I don't believe we could protect you fully."

"What do you suggest then?" Harry asked, ruffling up his hair in an unconscious motion.

"I think you would be best protected here, at Hogwarts."

"But, sir, I am no coward, and if Voldemort wants me, what's to stop him getting to the people I care about or even coming onto Hogwarts grounds?"

"Harry, I'm not saying that you are a coward or that anyone for whom you care will not be hurt; I am merely suggesting that you stay here, inside these wards, where I can protect you fully and train you for the coming confrontation."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment; he didn't want Voldemort going for the Weasleys or any of his other friends whilst he hid in the school, but he also recognised the sense of the headmaster's words. He was ill-prepared to face Voldemort; Severus had shown him that. The previous times he had faced him, he had survived on sheer luck; he thought that he might not be so fortunate the next time.

Looking up into the headmaster's kind, grandfatherly face, he drew in a deep breath before letting it gush out of his mouth.

"Can you guarantee that you will protect my friends as best you can and that no one else will be taken and tortured in my place?" he asked. His voice sounded weak to his own ears, as he knew he would do what the headmaster asked regardless of the situation.

"Of course I can make no such guarantee, Harry, and I would be foolish to lie to you. This is war, my boy, and people will die, but I am trying to prepare you for something that is a certainty. You will face Voldemort, one way or another, and I am trying to give you the upper hand when the time comes. Now, I cannot force you to stay, Harry, but you should know that it would be foolhardy of you not to take what I am offering you."

Harry sat there and weighed up the headmaster's words while he nervously rubbed at his scar. He wanted this war to be over and the sooner the better, in his opinion. He didn't want to lose more friends and family members, and he considered the Weasleys to be the family he had never had. It was hard enough to lose Hermione, and every time he thought about her, it broke his heart just that little bit more. He was slowly coming to terms with it though, as he knew that no amount of tears or temper tantrums would bring her back. He had to be strong, for Hermione. The only thing he didn't understand was that Voldemort wasn't taunting him with the fact that he had tortured and broken his best friend.

He was so sure that he would have felt something when Hermione had died and had discussed this with Ron, who just shook his head as though revisiting these painful memories was just too much for him. So he had kept it to himself.

Hermione was the closest thing he had had to a sister. He had thought that she had been smart enough to have sent him some sort of message, even if it were in the form of a dream, but he hadn't felt anything, dreamt nothing except for his usual nightmares, and in this one thing he had felt more cheated then he had in the past. He was no longer denying the fact that she was dead, gone, never to return, but without a body to be laid to rest, he thought that he had not had the proper closure.

Perhaps after the war is over, he thought, filing that task away for later.

He allowed his mind to wander over the previous weeks when, in one of his late night detentions with Severus, he had maintained his Occlumency shields long enough to prevent the dark-haired wizard from breaking through into his mind.

He had wanted to yell out in triumph but suddenly felt so emotionally and physically drained that all he could manage was to let out a strangled cry as he cradled his head in his hands and tears ran unchecked down his face.

With Severus's teaching of Occlumency he had not had a vision through his scar for at least a month, and he silently cheered that fact. But what the headmaster was saying was factual – he just wasn't ready to battle the world's most powerful Dark wizard and expect to come out victorious.

Looking up into Dumbledore's kind blue eyes, he thought very carefully about what he was about to commit himself to.

"Okay," he half whispered before stating in a much stronger voice, "I'll stay here if you think it will help me defeat Voldemort."

Harry saw the twinkle return to the headmaster's eyes as he smiled gently at Harry before clapping his hands together and declaring, "Marvellous," and he stood up from behind his desk.

Harry stood too; he felt weary, as though he had just run a marathon, and his heart was fluttering around in his chest. Deep down, Harry felt a bit resentful at the headmaster's request, but he knew that Voldemort wouldn't stop until he, Harry, was either dead or had vanquished him and his Death Eaters to the fiery pits of hell.

Harry had grown up in the past few months, and losing Hermione played an enormous part in that. Also his new-found friendship with Severus had helped him deal with the loss of his best friend. It was hard, but Harry was as determined as ever to see it through. Then, once this entire mess was dealt with, perhaps he could lie down and mourn Hermione properly.

Until then, however, he was bound to keep fighting for everyone whose lives had been lost due to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He was the only one who could stop this madness once and for all.

***

Severus had been overwhelmed with a strangely heightened feeling of anxiety and a sense of malice since he had awoken that morning. The feeling did not desist throughout the day.

Preparing himself for the Leaving Feast, he was straightening his robes over his body when his left forearm started to throb and tingle.

He was being Summoned, as he had expected, although he had thought it wouldn't be until tomorrow. Severus knew what this particular meeting would entail. Harry Potter was graduating this evening, and no doubt Voldemort would want to know where he would be heading after he left Hogwarts.

Sighing, although there was no one around to hear him, he flung his robes off and reached down to the hidden panel in the bottom of his wardrobe, revealing his Death Eater mask and robes.

Sneering at the hateful reminders of the youthful mistake that had brought him to his present predicament, he hastily donned his robe and mask.

Making his way towards the Forbidden Forest, he sent his Patronus back towards the castle with a message to be delivered to Albus.

When Severus Apparated, he found himself positioned in the middle of a bare marsh. The wind was blowing fiercely, and although the breeze was warm, he still shivered as he stood out in the open, uncovered space with not a tree in sight. It was not a particularly encouraging scene, and he knew he was no longer in Scotland. He had half expected to find himself outside the familiar fortress where Lord Voldemort normally assembled his followers. It was not a good omen that Voldemort had chosen to conduct this meeting elsewhere.

"Severus," the chilling voice of his other Master hit his ears from somewhere behind him, and he immediately whirled around and dropped to the ground, eyes downcast, waiting to see how his Lord would proceed.

"All of my servants were unfaithful to an extent in my absence, but none of them have been dim-witted enough to be insubordinate since my return. Severus, I thought better of you. You, above all, are my most intelligent disciple. I still remember the day when you first came to me. Yes, you were arrogant even then, but do you remember why you came to me, Severus?" Voldemort paused, not really expecting an answer from the wizard prostrate before him. His eyes narrowed, while his slit-like nostrils flared slightly.

"Well, perhaps I shall refresh your memory a little for you." Voldemort was circling the downed wizard now, like a shark would circle its prey, and Severus felt truly afraid, not for his own life, but for those of the others, the side of Light. What would they do without their spy?

He dared not move a muscle; he knew these petty mind games the Dark Lord liked to play with his followers and had seen the others grovelling to appease their Master. Severus knew the Dark Lord saw these followers as weak-minded fools who had something to hide, and therefore they were punished severely whether they were concealing something or not.

"Tell me, Severus, are you frightened?" The lunatic changed the subject abruptly, his cruel hiss breaking Severus out of his thoughts, and he jumped slightly.

Voldemort's ruthless laugh rang through Severus's entire body, and he inwardly shivered whilst maintaining his Occlumency shields.

"Answer me!" Voldemort demanded as his hushed footsteps came to an abrupt halt in front of the Potions Master.

"No, my Lord, for I have nothing to hide from you," Severus replied, trying to maintain the steady rhythm of even breaths even as he felt water seeping into his clothes from his prolonged exposure to the soggy grounds. He was, to put it mildly, very uncomfortable.

"You may rise, Severus."

Severus got to his feet, straightening up, but he dared not hope for a reprieve. Dared not look into the eyes of the madman standing before him. For that was what Lord Voldemort was: a megalomaniac who was unstable enough to harm those who were trying to assist him in his insane cause.

"Look at me." And Severus looked up into his eyes then, putting everything he had into his Occlumency shields. He was stunned when he did not feel the Dark Lord's presence in his mind. Instead, he just stared at Severus with his red eyes, studying him as though he were an insect, small and insignificant.

"What of the Potter boy?" Voldemort unexpectedly asked, his gaze still penetrating. "Tonight he graduates; where will he go?"

"There has been much speculation, but thus far the headmaster remains close-lipped in regard to Potter," Severus responded, amazed at the Dark wizard's change of discussion.

"It appears that you have not outlived your usefulness yet, Severus." Voldemort spoke in a heated voice, the breeze fluttering his cloak around him as Severus stayed absolutely still, taking great care not to show the relief on his face.

"I have an assignment for you," Voldemort continued, his eyes lighting up with glee, "I want you to eliminate the Order's werewolf. Remus Lupin."

Lord Voldemort stopped in front of Severus as though gauging his reactions to this order. As always, Severus showed no response to his Lord's commands.

"You may leave now, as I find myself growing rather tired of your presence." He turned around and dismissed Severus, using his pale, spidery hand.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied as he bowed quickly.

Pulling his wand from the inner pocket of his robes, he was about to Disapparate when his Master spoke once more.

"Don't forget, Severus," he hissed, his voice infused with frozen venom, "I have spies at Hogwarts that even you don't know of. If word gets back to me of your failure in carrying out my orders, I shall be most displeased."

A shiver ran down Severus spine as he tried to regain his composure.

"Of course, my Lord," Severus hastened to answer, startled to hear this. He knew that Voldemort was not bluffing. If one thing was true about the evil bastard, it was that he never jested about such things.

***

Severus was sitting in his favoured chair in front of the cold, bare fireplace in his dungeon sitting room. It was free of any warmth, just like its owner. He was chilled to the bone, the cold making its way through his veins as he sat in his chair before the fireplace looking but not truly seeing anything.

His Death Eater cloak and mask were thrown into the corner of the room; he had not even bothered to cast a drying charm on his pants.

He hadn't felt it necessary to report back to the headmaster. Besides, what would he tell him? That he was charged with killing the last remaining Marauder? Either that or perish himself? He knew it was a test of his loyalty to the Dark Lord, and he also knew that Albus would seek him out eventually, as the wards of the school had undoubtedly told him of his return.

Speak of the devil, Severus thought resentfully, not even acknowledging the figure that had entered his room.

"Ah, Severus, I see that you have made it back to Hogwarts in one piece again," Albus joked, the slight hint of merriment in his voice doing nothing to dispel Severus's dark mood. Severus did not reply as he continued to stare into the unlit fire.

"You were missed at the Leaving Feast," Dumbledore continued, before he conjured up his own comfortable chair next to the brooding wizard and sat down, waiting for the dark-haired man to speak.

Albus didn't have to wait long, as Severus got to his feet and started pacing back and forth like a big cat in a cage.

"My orders are to execute Lupin," Severus said bluntly, getting straight to the point as he continued to pace.

The headmaster, although taken aback by this news, chose to remain silent, his eyes the only part of him moving as he watched the man before him continue in his relentless pacing. Albus knew he had not finished.

The Potions master stopped in front of the headmaster and glared at him. "Don't you have anything to say, or is it just that you didn't hear me?" Severus spat. Albus knew he was getting irritated now; the Potions professor was so predictable.

"I heard you, Severus, and do please sit down so we can discuss this like two rational adults." Severus continued to glare down his nose at the wizard in front of him before finally flopping back into his chair to stare once more at the fireplace.

Albus looked over at Severus, and an impression of sadness appeared on his face as he continued to gaze at the man who appeared to be made of stone. Severus neither blinked nor appeared to be breathing, and Albus cleared his throat before continuing.

"Why didn't you contact me as soon as you returned to the school?" Albus asked, as a way of getting the younger man to break free of his self imposed melancholy.

Severus closed his eyes briefly, a hand coming up to rub the bridge of his nose. "I knew you would be able to find me if you deemed it necessary. I needed the time to reflect on the meeting with my other Master." Severus was bone weary as he unwillingly countered Albus's question. He spoke the truth, but perhaps it had been because he was too spineless to speak to the headmaster and was trying to put off the inevitable.

He winced faintly at that thought.

Albus made a humming noise in the back of his throat and sat there waiting for Severus to continue. The silence was almost unnerving as both men sat there is the dark, cold dungeon room.

"Needless to say, I cannot go through with it," Severus said while still staring into the cold grate.

"We will work something out," Albus replied, looking at his spy through the corner of his eye.

Severus sighed. It was the sound of a man condemned. He was tired of this infernal war, tired of serving two masters, but above all, he was just tired. He scrubbed at his face with both of his hands before resting them on the arms of his chair.

"Don't fret about it, my dear boy, we will work out something," Albus repeated, placing a hand on the reluctant spy's arm.

Severus grunted in response as both wizards continued to gaze into the unlit grate before them.

***

This chapter was beta read by the wonderful AmyLouise. Thanks so much babe.

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