The Death of a Werewolf

Severus was waiting in the shadows, leaning against a large pine tree, its branches swaying in the light summer breeze. It was dark, and although his eyes had adjusted to the blackness, he knew Lupin's werewolf night vision would afford him a better view of the landscape and its surrounding areas. Severus hadn't been waiting long before his keen hearing picked up the sounds of someone approaching.

Narrowing his eyes, he turned his head slowly towards the noise and saw the werewolf coming into view. Stepping away from the shadows, he strode straight into the path of the man.

Remus Lupin had just come from seeing the werewolf pack and delivering their latest batch of Wolfsbane Potion. Although the full moon was not for a couple of days yet, he liked to be efficient and saw the pack's trust in him escalate due to this fact.

Walking back towards the clearing in the forest where he liked to Apparate, he saw a dark cloaked form unexpectedly step onto the path he was taking. For a brief moment he thought it was a Death Eater, and he fumbled for his wand until he saw the figure raise its hands in the air and lower its hood.

"Severus," Remus hissed, even as he breathed out a sigh of relief. His sweaty hand tucked the wand back into his pocket, and he held his other hand to his heart. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" he joked, smiling at the dark-haired man standing before him on the path.

Severus sneered back at him, although Remus didn't seem to notice Severus's darkening features.

"What are you doing out here, Severus?" Remus asked again as he raked a hand through his greying hair and slouched a little more.

"I came here to talk to you, actually," Severus replied as his hand inched closer to his wand. The other wizard did not become aware of the rising threat the wizard posed.

"Out here?" Remus asked, turning his head back and forth as though this was some kind of joke. "Come off it, Severus. What could you possibly have to speak to me about that couldn't wait until we were both indoors?" He took a step closer to the wizard whom he considered his friend. Severus, in turn, took a step away from the werewolf. A look of bewilderment crossed Remus's features as he stopped in his tracks.

"Severus, what is this really about?" Remus asked, genuinely perplexed as to why this taciturn man would come all the way out in the middle of the night to seek him out and have a heart to heart in the middle of a dark forest.

"Why?" Severus asked, turning his face to the side, his voice sounding so dejected to Remus that he almost wanted to reach out and reassure the man.

Instead he asked, "Why what, Severus?" Severus was starting to alarm Remus now, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"Why did you just stand by in the background and watch whilst James and Sirius tormented me? Why did you do nothing? You were a prefect." Severus looked over at Remus then, and the werewolf's sharp eyes caused him to shudder at the emotions on the face of the man before him. Emotions he didn't show anyone, ever.

Taken aback by the wizard's surprising show of emotion, Remus decided that if Severus wanted some sort of confession from him, he would give it to him. Remus gulped, his mouth dry, and he decided that when he was back at Hogwarts, giving his report to the headmaster, he would take the proffered liquor this one time.

"I was young, Severus. Hell, we all were. I was a fool to stand by and do nothing. But I guess it was the fact that they accepted me for what I was, what I still am, and to go against them both would leave me with nothing... I was selfish and self-centred. Looking out for myself. I had never belonged to anything before, and what James and Sirius offered me was friendship. For the first time in my life, I had someone to call a friend, and those people considered me a friend too. We all did some pretty dense and dangerous things when we were kids," Remus stated, and this time he really did reach out for Severus.

As Remus laid his hand on Severus's arm, Severus jerked his whole body away from the man's offer of comfort.

"Don't touch me, you filthy mutt," Severus spat with such conviction that Remus cringed away from the man he had thought he was getting to know.

Before Remus could collect himself, Severus had pulled his wand and growled out, "Expelliarmus," and as his wand hit Severus's outstretched left hand, Remus flew back and hit a large tree, knocking himself out cold.

"Remus, where are you?" Tonks's voice echoed in a harsh whisper around the forest.

Severus's head snapped up at the sound; he knew he had to work quickly now.

"Come on, this isn't funny. It's creepy in here," Tonks said, exasperated, getting closer to Severus and Remus's location.

Pulling himself together, Severus advanced on Remus then, tucking the werewolf's wand away in his outer robes and coming to stand half a metre away from where he had fallen. Looking down on the mutt, who was splayed out beneath the massive tree, he cocked his head to the side, a nasty sneer on his face and spat, "Avada Kedavra" with all the hatred he could muster.

Before Severus could blink, before the body had time to transform, Severus's hand was casting a containment field around the body and setting it alight with a flourish of his wand. He watched with a contemptuous sneer on his face as the magical fire consumed the body at a much quicker rate than that of a normal fire, until there was not a trace left. Finally, he cast, "Finite Incantatem" on the containment charm.

Glancing around swiftly as he heard more rustling to his right, he flicked his wand, casting an intricate spell to hide all trace that he had been present in the forest from anyone who would come looking for a hint of magic and Disapparated.

***

Lord Voldemort sat in an antechamber across from where he held his usual meetings. Only the highest ranking of his servant's were privy to this meticulous, furnished assembly quarter, and as such, it was more extravagant than the generously proportioned space which would be the only room in his mansion that his lower Death Eaters would ever see.

The lavish tastes of the Dark Lord were everywhere within this room, from the intricate wooden panelling that sported the carved snakes that he preferred, to the huge open fireplace that burned brightly whenever he was present.

Nagini was slithering around his chair lazily, clearly having a fondness for the heat that the fire provided, keeping one eye on Wormtail, who huddled in on himself in one of the darkened corners. Voldemort looked down at Nagini, and in a series of hisses, he spoke with her. The giant magical snake cocked its head to one side and then left the room through a small opening to go find herself some dinner.

He looked around, his eyes scanning the room. The fireplace casting a half-light upon his eerie features made him look even more sinister. He was surrounded by his most trustworthy servants. Wormtail, although a snivelling, diminutive man, had proven himself in the past and therefore had earned his right to be regarded as one of Voldemort's more trusted lackeys. No matter how many times he pushed Wormtail's head under water, asking for the impossible, he always bobbed back up to the surface like a rat, so much like his Animagus, crawling back on all fours for more of the same treatment.

A wide grin passed over Voldemort's inhuman face at this stray thought; he knew it made his underlings think that he was plotting something, and he could read the fear in their faces and minds as they watched him from the corners of their eyes.

All except for Bellatrix. One of his most loyal, if fanatical, servants. She had clearly lost her mind in Azkaban, but she was beyond a doubt more special to him for it. Bella meant beautiful, and to Voldemort she was more than just beautiful; she was magnificent in her sadistic pleasures. Always willing to debase and defile herself at her Lord's whim. How he wished there were more followers like his Bella.

He studied Walden Macnair next. His taste for exotic creatures was what actually drew him to Voldemort's side. Macnair had a genuine knack when it came to magical creatures, and that was one of the reasons Voldemort liked to keep Walden close; his entertainment value was never lacking and was enjoyed by all of his followers.

Voldemort was fascinated at the way the man's thought process worked. He watched as Walden fiddled with his moustache, a nervous habit that he had picked up from somewhere, as he stood talking to Dolohov.

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed as they flickered over to Antonin Dolohov. He was one of the first of his Death Eaters and had proven himself to be quite handy not only with Muggle objects but also with a wand. Voldemort noticed that he never went anywhere without the sharp knife that was tucked away in his belt. When questioned, Antonin said that he liked to see his Muggle victims bleed, see the panic and pain in their eyes as he watched their life slowly fade away.

Leaning against the wall a few paces away from where Macnair and Dolohov were having a conversation was Avery. Although he had failed Voldemort at the Department of Mysteries almost two years ago, not being able to catch the Potter brat and his band of misfits, Avery had given him the information about the prophecy that concerned Voldemort and Potter and had therefore redeemed himself in Voldemort's eyes.

Voldemort closed his eyes as he felt a disturbance in the wards surrounding his impenetrable fortress. Knowing that no one could Apparate in without bearing the Dark Mark, he wasn't alarmed; however, he was quite intrigued by the power play happening in this very room, and if this disciple did not bear something of worth, they would be made an example of.

At that thought the doors opened, and Severus walked in. The man was solemn as usual; he never gave anything away even when he spoke. His face was a mask; clearly he had had more practice than most at hiding his emotions. Or possibly he actually was that severe - unfeeling, heartless and callous.

All conversation stopped as every head whipped around to witness the intrusion.

Bella smiled in obvious glee, thinking that the Potions master was about to be punished for his impertinence.

Severus stopped in front of the Dark Lord and fell to his knees, bowing deeply, his head almost touching the ground.

"I trust that you have brought me good news, Severus?" Voldemort asked. His voice promised retribution if this was not the case.

Daring to look up at the insane dictator before him, Severus tilted his head upwards, still kneeling.

Looking straight into his Master's eyes, he let all his hurt, frustration and anger linger in the forefront of his mind. Not blinking, he felt Voldemort slither his way into his mind like the magical snake he kept as a familiar.

Severus focused on projecting the images of the last thirty minutes and his belief that the werewolf didn't trust him.

Voldemort watched the scene playing out within Severus's mind; however, he did more than that. When he reached the final death blow, Severus felt Voldemort pause on the image of the wizard, twisting it to and fro as though to ascertain its authenticity. Satisfied that it was indeed the werewolf, he moved onwards to watch as Severus burnt the body methodically, leaving no trace of his presence when he heard the voice of another, searching for the werewolf.

It became all too clear to Voldemort that Severus's suspicion was accurate and that he covered his tracks admirably.

He left his mind then, but Severus didn't dare blink as Voldemort held out one long-fingered hand towards him. Severus knew instinctively what the powerful Dark wizard wanted and reached into his breast pocket and presented the werewolf's wand, handle first, to his Dark Master.

Voldemort gripped the wand as he pulled it away from his servant. He looked at it for a moment, then pulling out his own Dark and twisted wand, he cast a levitation charm on it and the wand hovered, mid-air, above Severus's head. Not a sound was heard in the antechamber as Voldemort swished his own wand delicately, pointing it at the werewolf's wand, which started to emit a high squeal, tumbling and turning in the air.

Abruptly, the squealing hum ended, and the wand dropped to the stone floor, the dull sound of wood meeting stone echoing though the silent room. It bounced once, twice and then lay perfectly still.

Severus held his breath as he watched the impressive magical display before him. He had known that Voldemort was paranoid, but this went even beyond what a sane wizard would call being cautious.

All eyes in the room were suddenly focused on the Dark Lord as a frightening grin crossed his face, and he looked down at his spy, still kneeling before him.

"Severus," he said, the smile blossoming into something sinister, "you may rise, my most trusted spy." He gestured to the wizard before him as he rose quickly.

Looking out to his assembled few, he took in the look of bewilderment on most of the faces. Taking his time to seat himself once more on his throne, he made a show of keeping them in the dark as long as possible, as he so liked the taste of expectation.

"My most trustworthy servant," he started, his eyes glancing over each and every one of them, "Severus, my spy at that Muggle-loving school, has delivered to me something very special tonight." Here he paused, letting the expectation grow until the room was almost bursting with anticipation. He liked to cause this jealousy and rivalry amongst his followers, if for nothing else but his own amusement.

"He has delivered the wand and the memory of the final moments of the Order's werewolf." He laid his hand out before himself in a gesture of an offering. The gasps he heard around the room were music to his ears as all eyes flickered from the wand that was lying on the ground to Severus's blank face.

"Severus has tonight destroyed the werewolf that this wand belonged to and covered his tracks most convincingly, even to the Aurors and other Order members. Tonight he has made me most proud." Voldemort beamed, a fear-provoking smile lighting his face.

Severus's face remained stony as his eyes flicked around the room to count the Death Eaters present.

'So this is a meeting of the inner circle only,' he thought, before slowly taking in the looks of envy and resentment on most of the faces.

Voldemort Summoned the werewolf's wand from where it was lying on the floor to his left hand and then turned to face Severus, presenting the wand to him. He inclined his head slightly, and Severus took up the offering held before him.

Taking the wand in both hands, he snapped it in two, the sound of the wood and its magical core snapping rebounding piercingly around the room and off the stone walls.

Voldemort gave a vigorous cackle, and all of the Death Eaters soon joined in with their Master.

Severus presented the two broken halves of the wand back to his Dark Master, who took them from him, smiling, then tucked the broken pieces of the useless wand into the folds of his robe.

Severus shuddered mentally at the image before him, then bowed deeply once more. It was a great honour to break the wand of the wizard that you had defeated in battle, and even though Severus knew that there was no great struggle involved, his Dark Master had bestowed upon him an enormous tribute.

Before he could ask his Lord if he could be dismissed, his mind already coming up with the many reasons why he was needed back at Hogwarts, the sound of the double doors banging open caused most of the inner circle to jump slightly, and all heads whipped around to gauge the second intrusion of the evening.

Lucius strolled into the room, head held high, with a look of arrogance on his face. His wand was pointed over his shoulder as he levitated a body behind him. Lucius stopped once he was in the centre of the room, and with a harsh downward flick of his wand, the body that was floating behind him crashed to the ground. Severus flinched inwardly as he heard a bone or two crack as the body make contact with the stone ground.

"And what have you brought your Lord, Lucius?" the serpent-like creature asked whilst making his way over to the crumpled body.

"My apologies, My Lord, for disturbing you," Lucius replied, bowing his head, "although I had assumed you would like this little token of my gratitude." He looked up then, and Severus caught the malevolent gleam in his eye before he continued. "I caught this piece of filth in Knockturn Alley; he thought that he could shadow me." Lucius let out a little chuckle at this, turning and looking down upon the body with utter contempt.

Severus looked down at the body at Lucius's feet for the first time and saw with mounting horror the profile of Mundungus Fletcher. No, his mind screamed out to him. Even though he made no movement, he mentally acknowledged the fact that it would only be a matter of minutes before his betrayal was discovered. If he was fortunate, he would be killed outright.

Severus's muscles tensed minutely, his mind racing through all the lies and half-truths he could come up with, each one more outlandish than the next. He was doomed. Why did the two-bit thief have to be captured now?

"Ennervate," Voldemort said lazily, although the excitement was not lost on his followers, who, perceiving easy prey, homed in on the weakest one in the room like a pack of hyenas.

"So pleased you could join us," Voldemort hissed, looking down at the wizard. The Death Eaters surrounding the man laughed contemptuously.

Mundungus opened his eyes groggily, and he winced in pain from his broken shoulder. He looked up, and the first thing his blurry vision could focus on was the red eyes of Voldemort staring back at him. He immediately shrank back in fear, cowering on the ground. A boot stopped his retreat, and as he froze he knew at that precise moment that his life was at an end. Looking around in a blind panic, he was hoping to find a familiar face in the crowd, but Severus had hung back from those circling around the fallen wizard, and Mundungus neither saw nor heard him.

Voldemort smiled at the delicious terror that was encompassing the wizard before him, as his focus once more turned towards the Dark wizard, and he stared into his red eyes.

"What say you, my most loyal? Would you like a spot of entertainment this evening?" Voldemort enquired, his voice almost joking in its quality, as though this were a game to be played out: toying with a human life.

The Death Eaters were openly thrilled now, jostling each other for a better position to get the first hex in. Bella laughed feverishly.

"Shall I start?" the red-eyed wizard asked, an almost comical look on his face.

At the murmurs of approval and giddy eagerness running through the room, Voldemort rounded on the wizard, who was cringing on the floor, and pulled his wand out. He never spoke a word, but simply flicked his wand, and the Death Eaters watched as the prisoner convulsed and cried out in agony.

When Voldemort dropped his wand to his side, Severus saw Lucius approach him and whisper in his ear, cupping his hand around his mouth as though he were still a child in school, sharing a secret with his friend. Severus's upper lip curled into a sneer as he strained to hear what Malfoy was up to, but he could not make out a word of what was said.

Voldemort turned to look at Lucius as he took a step back. A grin appeared on his face as the blond-haired wizard raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him. Waving his hand at the prisoner, who was thankfully unconscious, he finally spoke. "A very cunning and worthy idea, my servant," Voldemort replied.

Lucius nodded his head once in acquiescence.

Voldemort turned to look at his followers, taking in the gleaming eyes of Bella and the way that Dolohov's hand was poised on the hilt of his knife. Even Wormtail was excited about the way that this evening was progressing so far, though Voldemort knew that he would not have a hand in administering the final blow to the prisoner; he was just too weak-willed when it came to openly hurting the enemy, though he did have his uses.

"It seems that your brother here has plans for this particular prisoner, but never fear, I shall not spoil your fun. Walden, perhaps you can come up with a form of distraction for your brothers and sister?" he asked as he cocked his head to the side.

MacNair's flair for the dramatic caused his eyes to mist over momentarily as a sinister grin broke out across his face. "Of course, My Lord, I would be most honoured to show you a new beast I have been playing with. Perhaps if I could go to the dungeons and procure a few of the prisoners?" Walden asked, the grin never fading from his face.

Voldemort waved one spidery hand at his disciple, and Walden disappeared out of a door behind his Lord's throne with a spring in his step.

Lucius made his apologies to the Dark Lord, truly regretful that he could not be there to witness MacNair's stimulating show, and he brandished his wand and levitated Mundungus's prone body from the floor. Bowing deeply, he walked straight to the door, which opened to allow him to exit, passing through his fellow Death Eaters and not once looking back at them.

Severus released his breath; his heart was racing inside his chest, and he was surprised that the others in the darkened room could not hear it.

The Death Eaters looked over to Voldemort as the doors swung shut. He could taste the suspicion, but also growing excitement in the air. He liked to keep his most loyal followers guessing at his next move. He found that it not only kept them on their toes, but also fearful of him.

Severus made his way over to the Dark Lord, careful to slow his beating heart and will his breathing under control.

Bowing before the wizard, he brought his regrets that he could not be present for his brother's demonstration to the front of his mind. His face was a carefully controlled mask which showed no emotion whatsoever.

"Severus, will you not stay to witness what your brother has to offer?" Voldemort asked. He already knew the answer to his question but felt the need to explain it to his Death Eaters.

"Regretfully not, my Lord," Severus simply stated, "I must be back at the school. Although the new school year has not yet begun, there is plenty to do and classes to prepare for."

"Very well, Severus," Voldemort sighed in mock disappointment, "you may go, but keep your ears open for any sign of Harry Potter. The boy has been most quiet since he graduated, and I think he and that old man may be plotting something."

Severus nodded his head once in acknowledgement of his Master's wishes before making a hasty exit from the room; the thought of how close he had come to his actual death was rather disconcerting.

***

Severus stumbled up the stairs to the headmaster's office, just catching himself in time before he made a fool of himself by making an awkward entry into the headmaster's office.

His thoughts were whirling around one another like the currents of a strong lake. Yes, he had fooled the Dark Lord into thinking that he had indeed killed the werewolf, but that fool Mundungus had almost blown his cover; would have, he was certain, if he had seen Severus. In fact, Mundungus still could blow his plans and those of the headmaster all to hell, and it was only by the grace of the deities that the Dark Lord had not yet delved into the mind of that no-good thief.

He trudged up the remaining stairs, even though it was a revolving staircase; he had no time to wait for it to reach the top, and he barrelled through the office door without knocking.

Albus glanced up at Severus as he barged through the door. His breathing was laboured, and he wore a pained expression on his face.

"Ah, I see you're back, my boy," Albus said in an almost jovial voice as he peered down his nose and through his glasses at Severus.

The dishevelled wizard before him took two steps into the room before heading straight for the cabinet that held the headmaster's finest liquor. Pouring himself a Firewhisky neat, he downed the contents of the glass in one gulp and slammed it back down before turning towards the headmaster's desk and hissing out his response.

"Yes," he replied and turned to face the elderly wizard, "but imagine my surprise when Lucius brought in Mundungus tonight." He paused at the old man's sharp intake of air and watched as he rose on unsteady legs. Severus held up one hand to forestall any questions that Albus might have and continued, "and imagine, if you will, my disbelief when the Dark Lord did not see fit to question him via Legilimency, instead gifting him to Lucius for his own perverted pleasure," he spat, a frown and sneer battling for dominance on his face.

For once the headmaster was speechless. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as though searching for the words to placate his spy.

"Mundungus was a hair's breadth away from betraying all; I could see it in his eyes, the coward, and it was only the Dark Lord's wand that kept him from betraying all of us. In fact, he still could betray us; Lucius is very gifted when it comes to interrogation," Severus fumed, taking a couple of steps towards the headmaster's desk.

"The Dark Lord has become lax due to his belief in his own supremacy. An extremely costly error indeed. I have never known him to be so careless, and I fear he would have performed Legilimency if not for Lucius's suggestion, though what that proposition was I do not know."

"Severus, my dear boy..."

Severus hissed at the headmaster's referral to him as anybody's "dear", but Albus continued nevertheless, "It is a dangerous game you play. You know as well as I that you can be betrayed at any given moment, which is why I have limited your full disclosure amongst the Order. It is not to downplay your heroics, Severus, but to ensure you are kept safe. If Mundungus were to implicate you as my spy, I'm sure you could come up with a convincing lie, one good enough to satisfy even Tom. We can just be thankful that he was not present during our discussion on Remus's death," Albus concluded, his face a most unsettling shade of white.

"You find the silver lining in everything, don't you, Albus? A wizard's life is in peril, and all you can think of is the bigger picture."

Albus shrugged his shoulders before saying, "He knew the risks before he came into this game, Severus, as we all did. No one's life is more precious than the next, but I do feel that you must be kept safe, for if you were to depart this world, we would lose vital information from the inner circle, information that I fear we cannot do without."

Severus sneered openly at the headmaster, his hands balling into fists at his side.

"I risk my life every time I go back to the madman. It is already forfeit, Albus," Severus spat. "You and I both know that whoever wins this thrice-damned war, whether it be the Light or the Dark, I shall pay for my deceptions." At Albus's look of shock, Severus threw his arms up in the air before slamming them down on the desk.

"If your Order wins, as a Death Eater I shall be a pariah, because of this mark on my left arm. Although it may not be spoken, I am positive that no one outside the Order will see me for what I truly am - your sacrificial lamb and a spy for the Light.

"I will have to leave the only place I have called home for the last twenty-eight years of my miserable life, for the threat to you and this school would be too great. They would be calling out for my blood, and there is only so much you can do, Albus, to protect me." Severus took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"And do I even need to explain the world as I see it if the Dark Lord is the victor? There will not be a single place on this godforsaken planet where I would find peace, so don't you dare talk to me about sacrifices and protection, for there will be none for me." The fight left Severus then, and he took a few unsteady steps backwards, throwing himself into the chair that faced the headmaster's desk.

Albus rounded the desk, a look of complete and utter hopelessness on his face. He came to stand next to Severus and placed an old, withered hand upon his black-clad shoulder. Looking up at Albus, Severus noticed how close to tears the old man truly was.

"Severus," Albus whispered, almost pleading with the dark-haired man, "I know how hard it is for you, but think of all the good you are doing." Severus scoffed at this, but the headmaster continued as though he had not heard him.

"I too have made many sacrifices for the war, and look at me. I am an old, tired man, but I know that as long as I hold air in my lungs, I shall continue to fight until my dying breath. Wizards like Tom have no place in this world. No wizard, witch, or Muggle should feel threatened, and Tom is doing just that. Can't you see that this is greater than you or I?" Albus pleaded, raising both his eyebrows and peering down at the younger man.

Bravo, Severus thought, you really are a superb actor, Albus, or perhaps you even believe this act of yours. Enough to project it upon others. That's what makes you a formidable leader; your ability to sway the feelings of others to do your bidding.

Severus sighed once and closed his eyes, nodding his head. As he struggled to stand from the chair, Albus's hand still rested lightly on his shoulder.

"Severus, I have to ask if the plan was successful tonight?"

The dark-haired man opened his eyes and looked into the headmaster's eyes. Nodding his head, for he felt he could not speak, he conveyed the message that the deed was done and the Polyjuiced Remus Lupin was indeed dead.

Albus sighed dramatically at that before simply telling his Potions master to go and get some rest and that they would discuss the matter further in the morning.

Severus nodded his head and made his way over to the door. His footsteps were almost mechanical, and he felt so very, very tired and defeated.

As he made his way past the outer door to the headmaster's office, sticking to the shadows along the hallway, he thought back to the conversation he had just had with the headmaster and thought it quite telling that he didn't ask him if he knew where Mundungus was being held, and there was no talk of a rescue. It was as though he already knew he was a lost cause, or that he simply didn't care.

His mind went back to Hermione Granger then, and he realised this was not the first, and most certainly would not be the last, time that Albus had dismissed a fellow fighter for the Light.

A coiling mass erupted in his stomach at the thought that they were all the powerful wizard's pawns in this war. Disposable, expendable. Albus fucking Dumbledore had made it clear on so many other occasions that this was the case. He was certain now that the great headmaster was little better than the Dark Lord himself. Yes, he could dress it up in pretty lights and parade it around as doing what was good and proper for the greater good, but he would bet his life that even Minerva was not privy to all of the white wizard's plans.

Still, Severus would do what he thought was right, fighting for all of the unnamed witches, wizards and Muggles that were threatened in the name of the Dark Lord. He would see that justice was served and do what he had always done. He would fight for the Light, as that was the right thing to do.

Albus had just confirmed the suspicion in Severus's own mind that he shared relevant information only with the witch or wizard that it pertained to, so that no information could be leaked in the case of the enemy capturing anyone within the Order and none of his grand plans could be ruined. It was a wise move for any political leader in a war, but something about the way the old wizard seemed to care for each Order member when they were all together, but then dismissed Mundungus's life as though he was not worthy of a rescue mission was inexcusable. He had never liked the thief, but he wondered to himself if Albus would do the same to him, should he fail one day to return from the dark Lord's fortress.

Severus paused for a moment in an alcove before the stairs leading down to the dungeons. Hand outstretched, leaning against the wall, he tried to gather his thoughts.

Why was it that the Dark Lord himself feared this old man above all others, even Potter? Perhaps he had just cause. Would the world be truly a better place if the Dark Lord was vanquished and Potter prevailed?

This was the first time he had honestly asked himself that very question, and he shuddered, not caring for the answer that his mind supplied.

Yes, he knew now with absolute certainty that they were all pawns waiting for the headmaster's frail hands to move them around on the chessboard of life. Only Albus Dumbledore knew the full story.

His legs started descending down the staircase. His mind was a million miles away, thinking, plotting, until he reached his quarters and dropped the wards. Severus dived head first onto the bed, not even bothering to undress as the exhaustion from the evening finally took its toll.

***

A/N: What is Lucius up to? 10 points to Slytherin (because honestly, what other house would you be in if you are reading my story?) for the first one to leave a review with the correct answer.

I would also like to pay homage to my fantastic beta, AmyLouise, without whom you would be reading a story that does not make much sense, full of plot holes and the like. Truly, she is a wonderful beta and I couldn't ask for better. She picks up on the most obscure things, and for that I am forever in her debt. Thanks so very much, babe.