XVII: Friends and Foes

Chapter XVII: Friends and Foes

Charis woke in the early hours of the morning, shivering slightly and noticing that her nightie had moved up and that she was lying with her bottom bare. Drowsily, she groped for her blanket and had almost gone back to sleep when she remembered that someone else was supposed to be lying in bed with her. But as she rolled over, reaching out her hand, she found nothing but empty sheets. Confused, she sat up, looking around her bedroom. There was no sign of Morgana, and the sweater that she had borrowed was lying – neatly folded – at the foot of the bed. Had she gone to sleep on the sofa after all, Charis wondered and had already swung her feet out of bed when she noticed the silver letters that were hanging over her bed: Didn't want to wake you, kitten. I'll get in touch tomorrow.

At first, Charis was overcome with a feeling of sadness at the fact that her friend had left, but when she saw that Morgana had signed her little note with 'Love, Morgana', she felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. Love was not a word Morgana frequently used, not even when signing letters. Thus, those four letters meant quite a lot.

Smiling, Charis once more slipped under the covers and snuggled up tightly, deciding that is was too early to get up for a Saturday. And as she drifted off to sleep again, her mind filled with the memories of last night's dreams. Detailed, intense, hot memories.

Charis shot up, gasping and covering her mouth with her hands. Surely, she had not been dreaming that! But the memories were now clear in her head, as clear as if she were watching a film: She had been in the Hall of Prophecies, but instead of the usual bluish glow, it had been illuminated by candles like the Great Hall at Hogwarts, reflecting prettily off the glass globes. She had been stacking the orbs methodically in a row, humming a tune, when suddenly a pair of hands had slinked around and hugged her from behind. She'd dropped the prophecy in shock, only to find it was Grindling! She'd turned around, and he'd been smiling at her, his kind blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight. And then he'd kissed her! It had been electric, and before she'd known what was happening, they had started making love right there in the hall on an old desk.

But then, just like that, Grindling had disappeared, and Severus Snape had stepped out of the shadows, telling her that Grindling was a "throwaway nobody" and commanding Charis to touch herself, bringing her to an explosive climax!

Charis shuddered, if from pleasure or from shock, she did not really know. What did this dream mean? Was she falling for Grindling? Or had last night's wine and the knickers conversation with Morgana set the whole thing off? And why had she dreamt of Severus? She had tried so hard to forget about him, to make her heart move on. Did she still love him? Would a part of her always love him? Or was she, once more, confusing love with lust, just as he had told her on the night of Valentine's in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library?

Hugging her blanket tightly around herself, Charis lay down once more. She was feeling confused to say the least and rather lonely. And right now she wished that Morgana had stayed so she could snuggle up against her and feel, well, loved. But Morgana wasn't there anymore, and all Charis had to hug was her pillow and Lily when the little cat came trotting in after a while.

It was mid-morning when Charis awoke again, and this time, it was Silvy who tugged furtively at her blanket, carrying a plate with freshly baked chocolate croissants and telling her that Miss Morgana would meet her outside Flourish & Blotts in two hours' time.

* * *

It was now lunchtime, and Charis was waiting for Morgana outside a bustling Flourish & Blotts; the new school year was dawning, and it seemed that everyone had chosen today of all days to collect the items from their book lists. Charis didn't mind the crowds, however. Diagon Alley seemed like an unfriendly place to be on one's own these days, with posters of wanted Death Eaters leering down from every corner. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the apothecary on the other side of the street, and with a shudder, Charis retreated behind the shabby-looking stall that seemed to be selling all sorts of amulets. Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors and Inferi, the cardboard sign said.

Charis took yet another step backwards as the seedy-looking man who owned the stand rattled a handful of amulets at her and bumped right into Morgana, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

'Jumpy, aren't we?' the Slytherin asked and gave the stall owner a glare so vicious that the man shrank back. Then she took Charis by the arm and steered her friend away from the bookshop.

'Slept well?' she asked once they were out in the alley.

'I had the weirdest dreams,' Charis confessed. 'But yeah, woke well rested. You?'

'As well as one can expect after a day in Azkaban. Didn't exactly dream of kittens, either.'

They walked side by side down Diagon Alley, neither of them really feeling like continuing this particular conversation. Morgana didn't want to worry her friend by telling her that she'd had terrible nightmares and then lain awake for the better part of the night, and Charis didn't feel like telling Morgana that she'd had wild erotic dreams about their former Potions master. After all, Charis' involvement with Snape had been the partial reason for her and Morgana's friendship almost falling apart during their last school year. Now Charis didn't want to risk this again, not for a silly dream which surely had been induced by nothing else than too much wine and chocolate.

'Enjoyed the chocolate croissant?' Morgana asked finally.

'Yeah, it was lovely! Thanks! I wish I had an elf who'd cook me breakfast every morning.'

'You can borrow Silvy, you know. I leave for work at least one hour before you do every day, and she gets bored. I bet she'd love to come over and cook for you.'

'No, I couldn't.' The thought was tempting, Charis had to admit that, but borrowing Morgana's house-elf didn't seem right to her. After all, she had been one of the few people to actually wear one of Hermione Granger's S.P.E.W. badges for a while. And even though she knew that Silvy was free and staying with Morgana of her own free will, Charis couldn't accept her friend's offer. A chocolate croissant now and then was fine, but having the elf cook her breakfast every day, that wouldn't do.

'Have you noticed that we seem to be about the only people who are here voluntarily?' Morgana asked as they walked past Eeylops Owl Emporium, where a group of adults stood huddled together, obviously waiting for their children to emerge from the store with their new pets. They all looked anxious and harried, some even afraid, and they were talking in low voices, every now and then glancing over their shoulders, as if to make sure they weren't overheard by anyone.

'Well, the weather isn't exactly inviting to have a stroll. I think it might rain soon. Can't we go and have a cup of coffee somewhere?'

Morgana agreed, and they made their way down to the Cockatrice Café, past one or another shifty-looking witch or wizard who tried to sell them amulets and other lucky charms. They didn't buy any, of course, as they knew most of them were bogus, but they sympathised with the people who did buy them. Dark times were upon them, and people couldn't be blamed for wanting to protect themselves.

The girls chose a booth by the window, Charis ordering a cup of hot chocolate and Morgana some herbal tea and a biscuit, and they watched the people passing by for a while, each one absorbed in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, Charis pointed out of the window. 'Look, there's Molly!'

Indeed, there was Molly Weasley, bustling up the street behind a group of adolescents who were following after Arthur Weasley.

'Babysitting the Chosen One, of course,' Morgana commented with a sour tone. 'As if she didn't have enough children to take care of.'

'I think she likes Harry,' Charis said.

'Well, I don't.'

'Why not?' Charis asked, puzzled.

'Because he's a ruddy Gryffindor, that's why!'

Charis stared at her friend in disbelief for a moment, but then they both burst out into laughter. Morgana was not being serious, of course. In the five years Harry Potter had been at Hogwarts, she had spoken to him only on a handful of occasions, most of the time not saying more than hello. She had no reason to dislike him, apart from him being a Gryffindor. Then again, that was reason enough, and as Charis remembered, Harry had denied Morgana entrance to Dumbledore's Army due to the simple fact that she'd been sorted into Slytherin. Thankfully, however, Morgana didn't know that.

'I think I know that laugh,' came a voice suddenly from across the café, and the girls turned to see a tall, fair-haired man approaching them. As usual, his long hair was tied back neatly into a ponytail and his blue eyes were glittering kindly. He had just bought a cup of coffee and was holding on to it, obviously on the verge of finding a seat.

'Grindling,' Charis exclaimed, blushing vehemently, and Morgana cocked an eyebrow in amusement. So that was the Ministry worker Charis fancied. She gave him a quick yet scrutinising look. He was handsome and looked very friendly. No wonder Charis blushed every time she spoke about him.

'Grindling, this is my best friend, Morgana Belakane. Morgana, this is my boss, Grindling Gibbons.'

'Belakane?' Grindling said impressed and gave a little bow towards Morgana. Then he turned to Charis once more. 'You are associating with the elite. The Belakane name can be traced back for centuries.'

Morgana narrowed her eyes. She didn't like people commenting on her family name. Most of the time, such comments turned sooner or later into discussions of blood status. And that was a topic Morgana despised with a passion. After all, neither her family name nor her blood status had done her much good so far.

'Why don't you join us, Grindling? There are two empty chairs.' Charis offered, trying hard to get the memories of the night's dream out of her head. 'You don't mind, Morgana, do you?'

'No, not at all,' Morgana lied. She did mind, actually, but for Charis' sake, she would make an effort. Grindling had made a good first impression, after all. Maybe, his comment about her family had been nothing but small talk and he was in fact not interested in such things. She would give him a chance. She budged over and offered him her chair and then took to carefully scrutinising him from the side. He, however, seemed to have eyes only for Charis, who was sitting opposite him.

'Dreadful weather, isn't it?' he commented. 'The whole of Europe seems to be covered in fog. Last year, I made a short trip to France in the beginning of August, but there is no point this year. The weather is just as bad down there.'

'France?' Charis asked. 'Oh, I'd love to go there. 'Did you go wine tasting?'

'Indeed I did. My family owns a little cottage not far from Dijon. I go there quite a lot. You should come along one day, Charis. As you know, some of the best wines come from the Bourgogne region.'

Charis nodded eagerly, and Grindling turned to Morgana. 'Do you drink wine?'

'Not if I can avoid it,' she replied curtly. 'Don't care too much for the French, either.'

Grindling laughed and told her that his family also owned a summer house in Greece, and when he and Charis started discussing Greek wine and cheese, Morgana made a mental note to look up the Gibbons family as soon as she got into work on Monday. The guy smelled of money, old money, and that combined with his interest in her family name made an alarm bell ring in Morgana's head. Too many old, wealthy pureblood families were or had been involved with You-Know-Who. And Grindling seemed just the right age to have been around when the Dark Lord had risen to power the last time. He was in his mid-forties, Charis had said. Just like Lucius. But then again, Grindling was showing genuine interest in Charis, a Muggle-born. Surely, he wouldn't touch her with a long stick if he...

'Look, aren't those the Malfoys?' Grindling interrupted her line of thought, pointing out of the window, and Morgana froze. The term the Malfoys was in her mind associated with Lucius and Narcissa. But as she turned to look out of the window, she caught sight of just Narcissa and Draco. Naturally, she thought, chiding herself. She knew very well where Lucius was. And even if he had been released last night, he would be in no condition to be wandering around Diagon Alley today. The Dementors had not been kind on him.

'Oh my, Cissy surely has seen better days,' Grindling commented.

'You know Narcissa Malfoy?' Charis asked, and Morgana once more sharpened her ears. This could become interesting.

'Indeed I do,' Grindling confirmed. 'I was in the same year as Lucius back at Hogwarts. I met Narcissa now and then. I was even invited to their wedding.'

'But surely you would not have associated with Lucius Malfoy,' Charis said, a slight tone of disbelief in her voice. 'I mean, you were in Ravenclaw. And we know that Slytherins don't mix with other Houses. Present company excepted, of course.' She smiled apologetically at Morgana, who simply shrugged.

'Oh, we were both in the Slug Club,' Grindling explained.

'The what now?' Morgana asked.

'The Slug Club,' Grindling repeated, at first looking a bit confused by Morgana's question. Then he slapped his forehead. 'Forgive me. I sometimes forget how old I am. Of course, you wouldn't know what the Slug Club is. Horace isn't teaching at Hogwarts anymore. Horace Slughorn, that is. He was Potions master and Head of Slytherin before Severus Snape. He used to hold small gatherings, dinner parties and such, for some handpicked students, students of whom he thought they might have the potential of becoming something great one day.' He pulled a face. 'Ha, shows what abysmal judgement he had. I sure didn't turn out to be anything special.'

'That's not true,' Charis butted in, maybe a bit too hastily. 'I mean, you are the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies. That's quite special.'

'I think Horace would disagree,' Grindling replied, smiling at Charis. 'You see, the other members of his little club can always provide him with things he liked: Quidditch tickets, elf-made mead, crystallised fruit, everything thanks to their jobs. All I can offer him are... let's see... mysteries.'

He pronounced the word mysteries in a spooky voice that made Charis giggle, and even Morgana couldn't help but grin. Grindling was nice; there was no doubt about it. And he made Charis laugh and looked at her as if she were the most beautiful and smartest witch in Britain.

Morgana bit her lip. Lucius had once called her beautiful, talented, intoxicating... She felt her stomach lurch.

'Would you excuse me for a moment, please?'

She stood up, feeling at once that she had done so too quickly. The room was spinning, and she had to hold onto the back of her chair as not to fall.

'Are you alright, Morgana?' Charis sounded concerned. 'You're awfully pale.'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Morgana claimed. 'I just need to, um, powder my nose.' And under that pretence, she left Charis and Grindling alone at their table.

'Sure your friend is alright?' Grindling asked once Morgana had disappeared into the ladies' room. He sounded sincerely concerned, and Charis didn't even try to fight the warm, fuzzy feeling that was spreading in her chest.

'She's had a rough couple of days at work,' she explained. 'She is training to become an Auror, you know.'

'An Auror?' Grindling sounded surprised but didn't pursue the subject any further. Instead, he locked eyes with Charis. 'How about that drink?' he asked. 'Have you thought about it?'

'Don't you think it's a little early in the day for a drink?' Charis smiled uncertainly. Oh, she had been thinking about this drink alright. And much, much more.

Grindling laughed. 'I didn't mean now. But maybe...' His eyes flitted momentarily out of the window. 'I... I am busy tonight, and... How about Tuesday night, after work? A pint at the Leaky Cauldron. Just a pint, as colleagues.'

Charis nodded. 'Yes, I'd love to.' She knew that quite a few Ministry workers went for a pint at the Leaky after work now and then. Surely, it was alright if she went there with her boss. Her boss, who she had dreamed about... Once more, she blushed, but Grindling didn't seem to notice. It looked like he was about to leave.

'I'm sorry I cannot stay longer,' he apologised. 'But as I said, I have a prior... engagement. You will take care of your friend, won't you, Charis? She did look pale.'

Charis nodded, and after they said their goodbyes, she followed Grindling with her gaze as he hurried out off the café and into the alley, where his dashing figure soon disappeared among the crowd. A pint on Tuesday then, she mused and started counting the hours.

After a few minutes, Morgana returned.

'Where's Grindling?' she asked.

'He had to leave,' Charis replied, blinking fiercely as to shoo away the last thoughts of the man. 'He was worried about you, though. So am I. Are you alright?'

Morgana drew a deep breath. 'Yeah,' she claimed once more and then shook her head dismissively. 'I had a rough day yesterday. I didn't sleep well, and I haven't eaten breakfast.'

'Then eat your biscuit, for goodness' sake!' Charis urged her. 'Look, it's chocolate. You know what Remus always says about chocolate.'

Under Charis' supervision, Morgana somewhat reluctantly stuffed the biscuit into her mouth, surprised that the chocolate did indeed do wonders for her blood sugar levels. The dizziness disappeared quite quickly but instead gave way to endless tiredness.

'Could we leave?' she asked after she had washed down the biscuit with some cold tea. 'I need some fresh air.'

They headed out, and Charis suggested she'd walk Morgana home. It was obvious that the Slytherin wasn't in the best shape, and Charis – much to her bewilderment – longed to be alone. She needed to gather her thoughts.

They walked quite slowly, and it took them therefore almost twenty minutes to reach Madam Nutkins' where they parted with the promise to get in touch later that day. Had they arrived five minutes earlier, they would have seen Draco Malfoy slink around the corner and disappear into the shadows of Knockturn Alley. But they did not see him, and they also didn't know that Harry Potter and his friends were following after him underneath Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

* * *

While his girls met up for a piece of pie at the Leaky Cauldron that very evening, Severus Snape stepped out of the fireplace in the drawing room at Malfoy Manor, feeling slightly puzzled. He had just finished his dinner when an owl from Narcissa had arrived, asking him – no, begging him – to come to the manor for a drink. She had not said why, but it had sounded urgent. And so he had Flooed in at eight-thirty sharp, just as she had wished.

Now, Narcissa was hurrying to great him. She looked pale and tired but carried herself tall just as she always did.

'Severus, I am so glad you could come.'

'Are you quite alright, Narcissa?' Snape asked in concern. 'Your letter sounded urgent.'

Narcissa's shoulders slumped in defeat. 'Oh, Severus, it's... this has been a dreadful day...'

But before she could elaborate further, she was interrupted by the door opening. Draco stepped into the room, a sneer on his pale face.

'Mother, don't you think you are consorting with too many, um, gentlemen today?' he asked nastily.

Snape raised his eyebrow. How dare Draco speak to Narcissa in such a way! If his father were around...

'Draco,' he said pointedly, 'I am sure your mother does not appreciate your tone.'

And indeed, Narcissa flushed with anger at being humiliated by her son. But as it befitted a lady, she turned her back on him with enforced calm.

'My apologies, Severus. Draco has been acting like a spoiled little brat today. He has been very rude to Grindling as well.'

Draco scowled, and Snape had to hide his shock. Grindling Gibbons? Again? First Charis had lain tossing and turning and moaning for the man, and now Narcissa appeared to be fraternizing with him. What kind of conspiracy was this?

'Do you remember him?' Narcissa asked lightly. 'Ravenclaw, in the same year as Lucius. He was a member of the Slug Club. Old family, the Gibbons.'

Snape's jaw clenched. 'Yes, I do remember him,' he answered slowly. 'I did not realise you socialized with him still.'

'Oh, I ran into him at Diagon Alley today,' Narcissa clarified. 'And guess who he had just met? Morgana Belakane! Isn't the wizarding world a small place?'

Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something. It was hard to make out what he was saying, but it certainly wasn't polite.

Snape looked at Draco with a flash of annoyance. The boy was beyond insolent tonight.

'Is there something you'd like to say, Draco?' he asked smoothly.

'There are several things I'd like to say, Professor,' the boy hissed in response. As far as he had been concerned, his mother had been far too friendly with that Grindling. And both of them had seemed far too fond of that blood traitor Belakane.

'But you won't say anything,' Narcissa cut off her son, a steely tone to her voice. 'I've had it with you today, Draco. Go to your room and stay there!'

Draco didn't talk back but just gave his mother and Snape a dirty look and sulked off, slamming the door behind him.

'I am so sorry, Severus,' Narcissa exclaimed, and, it was all she could do to stifle a sob. 'I have never sent Draco to his room before. His father normally would, but...'

'I know Lucius' absence must be taking its toll on you both,' Snape replied, conjuring a hankie. He wasn't very good with overt displays of emotion, yet he did feel sorry for Narcissa. She loved her son dearly, he knew that. And with Lucius in Azkaban, the last thing Narcissa wanted was to be hard on her son and risk alienating him.

'We... we received an owl from The Magical Law Enforcement today,' Narcissa went on, her voice quivering. 'Lucius... He... Severus, they said he attempted to break out of his cell yesterday! Surely, he wouldn't have been that stupid.'

Snape was shocked. From the little information Morgana had conveyed, he knew of course that the Dementors had moved in when Lucius had taken hold of her wand. But that the whole incident had been interpreted as an attempt to escape, he had not known. He knew, however, how such an act was punished at Azkaban.

Awkwardly, he reached out and touched Narcissa's arm in an attempt at a comforting gesture.

'Narcissa... You must remember that Azkaban can do strange things to people... And Lucius is obviously missing you desperately to try such a thing.'

'The letter said he has been given "special treatment"... If they have thrown him to the Dementors... Oh, Severus! How much will Lucius be able to endure? Will I ever get him back?'

Narcissa was crying in earnest now, and Snape looked at the wretched witch in front of him, his heart aching for her. She didn't deserve this. And he wasn't sure that Lucius deserved her love and devotion.

'Lucius will not be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss,' he said gently but firmly. 'That punishment is reserved for murderers, and Lucius has done no such crime. But you must be strong, for him and for Draco. Thoughts of you both are what is keeping Lucius going at the moment, I am quite sure.'

And with that, he risked giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

'Oh, Severus, I feel so helpless!' Narcissa confided. 'I want to do something for Lucius. I want to beg the Dark Lord for forgiveness, but you know he shows no mercy. And your idea... Severus, I think it's unwise for me to invite Morgana here. You should have seen Draco's reaction when Grindling mentioned her.'

Snape nodded slowly. He was not at all surprised by this news; Morgana and Draco could not stand each other. Funnily enough, they never had, even before the words Mudblood and blood traitor had become fashionable in Slytherin House. Most probably, young Draco had boasted too much about his family and wealth upon his arrival at Hogwarts five years ago. That Morgana hadn't hexed him then was nothing short of a miracle. Certainly, a jinx or two would not have harmed the boy. But Narcissa most probably knew nothing of her son's snobbish behaviour at school or thought it perfectly acceptable, and Snape did not feel like casting a bad light on the boy.

'It is unfortunate that Draco cannot forget the... incident between himself and Miss Belakane,' he began tactfully, pretending that the incident at the breakfast table was the only issue they'd ever had. 'However, the girl is key in getting the name of Malfoy back in the Dark Lord's favour.' He pretended to consider their options for some moments. 'Term time is starting soon,' he finally said. 'You will have ample opportunities to speak to Miss Belakane without Draco's involvement. Be patient.'

Narcissa nodded, obviously relieved that her friend understood her dilemma. Then her eyes flicked to the door through which Draco had left.

'I fear for him, Severus. What if he gets up to something stupid? What if he gets hurt in the attempt to fulfil the Dark Lord's wishes?'

Snape looked down at the trembling woman before him; she seemed just as desperate now as she had been on the night he had agreed to make the Unbreakable Vow.

'I have sworn to protect him, Narcissa,' he pointed out. 'And I will protect him, vow or no vow. I will not let him get hurt.'

'Oh, Severus.' The last bit of Narcissa's self-control crumbled, and she did not even try to contain her sobs as she leaned her head against Snape's shoulder, and he gingerly wrapped an arm around her delicate frame, feeling so terribly sorry for her. If there were only something he could do to help.

'It saddens me that you are being punished so.'

His words were like balm on her soul, and Narcissa clung to Snape for a few moments, sinking into his tentative embrace. This was exactly what she needed right now, physical contact with another human being.

'Could you stay?' she asked quietly after a few moments, looking up at him. 'Just for a while? Have a drink? I'd rather not be alone right now.'

And as Snape looked into her big blue eyes, he knew he could not refuse. What choice did he have? Who else could she turn to now, but him?

'Of course, Narcissa. I will stay.'

He stayed until after midnight. In the beginning, Narcissa talked a lot, almost babbled, which was very much unlike her. But Snape understood. She was scared, desperate and alone and in dire need of someone who would just listen to her without judging. And that was what he did. He even listened to her when she started reminiscing about Grindling Gibbons, how handsome she had thought him and how she wouldn't have minded going out with him if Lucius hadn't started courting her.

Towards midnight then, Narcissa became quieter, and Snape was unable to tell if it was due to the Firewhisky they had drunk or because Narcissa had said everything she had needed to get off her chest. But when he gallantly kissed her hand and bade her goodnight, she seemed calm and composed, and he was confident that she would have a rested night, something he doubted that he himself would experience.

Back at Spinner's end, he poured himself yet another glass of Firewhisky and then sank to his knees in front of the fireplace, hailing Dumbledore. It came as no surprise that he found the Headmaster still in his study, despite the late hour. The old man seemed to sleep very little nowadays.

'Severus,' Dumbledore exclaimed. 'To what do I owe the honour of your calling?'

The Headmaster seemed rather cheerful, but Snape was not in the mood for pleasantries.

'I have to inform you, Headmaster, that your plans concerning Draco and Miss Belakane have to be revised,' he declared, not entirely succeeding in hiding a certain tone of satisfaction in his voice. After all, he had never liked the idea of Morgana returning to Malfoy manor as a spy. 'I have just spoken with Narcissa, and she informed me that her son still holds a fair amount of hostility against Miss Belakane. Narcissa considers it unwise to invite the girl for the time being. And I wholeheartedly agree. We do not want to cause a bloodbath, do we?'

Dumbledore nodded gravely, stroking his long white beard. 'This is rather unfortunate,' he commented. 'I was rather hoping Morgana would be able to inform us about Draco's plans before he returns to Hogwarts so we can keep him from harming anyone by accident while he tries to get to me.'

Damned Gryffindor chivalry, Snape thought with a sneer. Trust him to turn the whole issue into a matter of student safety.

'I am quite certain, Headmaster, that we will be able to keep an eye on Draco once he is at Hogwarts. And I very much doubt that he will try to assassinate you within the first days of term. There will be plenty of time for me to gain his trust and get him to confide in me.'

Once more, Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes, I quite agree that there is no rush. But just in case young Draco displays some sort of adolescent petulance against you, I suggest that Morgana still get her feet under the table at Malfoy manor. If she and Narcissa have bonded by the time the boy returns home for Christmas, I doubt his mother will allow him to act hostile towards her guest. And who knows, as term progresses, maybe Morgana will be able to pick up useful information about Draco from his mother, even with him being at Hogwarts.'

Snape felt the muscles in his jaws tighten. Trust Dumbledore to find a loophole! Could the old codger not just drop the whole idea and let Morgana off? But of course, this was Albus Dumbledore, the Gryffindor who possessed so much Slytherin cunning that it would have surprised even old Salazar.

And so Snape considered himself defeated for the time being and bid the Headmaster goodnight, firmly declining the latter's invitation to tea at Grimmauld Place the next day. He'd had quite enough of Molly's cake that week and of the company of the Order members as well. This Sunday, he would spend in peace and quiet in his library.

He emptied his glass and retired, but before he turned off the lights in his bedroom, he cast a glance into the tiny mirror on his nightstand, finding both his girls sleeping tightly in their beds. Neither of them was tossing and turning, either from nightmares or erotic dreams, and Snape was confident that it would be a quiet night. For the pair of them, at least.