Snape's Dilemma

Disclaimer: The Potter world belongs to J.K.Rowling, as does all the money from it.

Author's Notes: Thanks again to Verity for beta reading, and to everyone who took time to review. This is fun :)

Chapter 6: Snape's Dilemma

On Sunday, the day after the Hogsmeade trip, Rowan was able to finish weaving her thestral fabric. Taking a bit of the leftover yarn and a needle, she fixed the top and bottom edges of the fabric with blanket stitching, then cut it from the loom. She held it to the light and admired the ethereal beauty of the thestral wool fabric. It had a stiff hand despite its softness, but that was because it was straight from the loom. It still needed to be washed to set the weave and allow the yarn to bloom. There was no need to do so before testing her potion dyes, though; the liquid dye bath would do that task for her.

Steeling herself, she picked up her scissors and snipped into the fabric. There was something about that first cut into handwoven fabric, it almost seemed like sacrilege. After the first snip, the rest were easy and she soon had a small pile of test swatches. She prepared a cauldron full of Innocuous Potion and dipped four of the squares into the murky liquid. She incanted different binding charms over three, leaving the fourth as a control, then set them aside to dry.

Snape made use of his day off to visit Knockturn Alley. Standing in front of the fireplace in his office, he threw a fistful of Floo powder into the fire and said "Borgin & Burkes." After alighting in the fireplace the far side, Snape bent low to clear the mantel and stepped out into the shop. He was accustomed to the array of Dark wizardry tools and items surrounding him here, so he wasted no time, but walked to the counter and rang the bell. Mr Borgin appeared in response to the summons and bowed obsequiously.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape, how good of you to visit our shop. I hope we can be of service to you."

"Good afternoon, Mr Borgin. I require certain ingredients; specifically, this list."

Borgin took the list from Snape and perused it. Even that jaded shopkeeper raised his eyebrows at the last item. "I take it you are preparing something for a certain ... acquaintance ... of ours?"

"That is not your concern," Snape returned frostily. "Do you have the items?"

"Yes, sir, all but the last."

"I am disappointed. You are falling short of your excellent reputation."

"Well," Borgin said conspiratorially, "those of our customers who have need of it prefer to, ahem, obtain their own supply."

Snape gave the man his most withering look. "I'm sure you wouldn't wish me to report to our mutual acquaintance that you were not able to satisfactorily meet my requirements?"

Borgin looked truly frightened by that threat. "You must forgive us, sir, that sort of item has been interdicted by the Ministry. We would lose our license if we were to stock it."

"I see." Snape stared down his large, hooked nose at the squirming shopkeeper, with a look normally reserved for fifth year students who might be considering getting cheeky. "Kindly ring up the other items for me. It is to be hoped that you will do better in the future."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir." Borgin bowed and took the list from Snape. "It will take some time to gather everything on this list. Perhaps you don't wish to wait that long. May we deliver it to you?"

"I certainly do not wish to wait. Very well, you will deliver the order to me in my study, tomorrow after classes."

"Of course, sir. We are always very happy to have your custom." Borgin bowed again and ushered Snape to the door.

Snape asked in several other shops in Knockturn Alley, and even in Hogsmeade, but in the end he had to return to Hogwarts without the blood.

Rowan returned to her dorm that evening and examined her samples. All four of them were still depressingly visible. She decided that she would see Professor Snape the next day and ask him for advice. That would undoubtedly be a galling experience, but not nearly so galling as failing the project would be. Having made her resolution, Rowan got into bed and pulled the curtains around her to close out the chill.

Rowan did not have Potions on Mondays, so she determined to head for the dungeons after her last class of the day. She wound up being released a few minutes early that afternoon, due to an unfortunate incident next door, involving the supply of feathers used by the first years and a highly advanced Cheering Charm. Several nearby classrooms wound up having to be evacuated. Consequently, Rowan arrived in the dungeon just as the last Potions class of the day began spilling into the hallway. Ron Weasley was a little ahead of her, going in to the classroom to meet his friends.

As Rowan arrived at the door to the Potions classroom, she saw Snape, in his study, through the open connecting door. He was paying a strange man some money and accepting a package from him. The man bid Snape good day and left through the fireplace.

Suddenly, Rowan noticed an altercation had arisen in the classroom among some of the sixth-year N.E.W.T. Potions students: namely, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, and Malfoy's two cronies. Potter had to be the last person Rowan would have expected to sign up for Advanced Potions, with the possible exception of Longbottom, but there they both were. Rowan guessed both of them needed Potions for their intended careers and so had little choice in the matter.

It appeared as if Malfoy must have said something nasty to or about her friend Hermione again. Rowan didn't need to hear the remark to get the general idea--she'd heard a few before, from Hermione. Several hexes had already flown in the few seconds Rowan's attention was turned. Now Goyle was barfing fat, juicy slugs, and Weasley was dancing the tarantella. Longbottom was hopping up and down on one foot while singing "To Anacreon in Heaven" in strident tones. Crabbe was wearing a kilt and holding a distinctly nervous-looking sheep. Potter and Malfoy had their wands raised and were each on the verge of pronouncing curses. Hermione was trying to stop Potter from getting in more trouble, so Malfoy fired first, but missed when Weasley danced right into him. The blue fire that shot from the end of his wand went high and hit a cabinet, and an entire shelf full of beakers and alchemical glassware crashed to the floor. Potter was in mid-spell when Snape's voice cracked through the chaos.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried sharply. All their wands, including Rowan's, flew from their hands and came together in a neat bundle at Snape's feet. That was bloody brilliant, Rowan thought in amazement, admiring his control of the spell.

"Finite Incantatum." At this, Weasley stopped dancing, and Longbottom stopped singing and stood still. Goyle's stomach settled down, and Crabbe was again dressed in school robes, sans sheep. Additional spells repaired the glassware and sent it all flying neatly back to the cabinet.

Snape looked angrier than Rowan had ever seen him. His nostrils were white and his eyes shot sparks. He drew himself up to an impressive height and glared at the combatants menacingly. "Twenty points from each of you," Snape snapped. "Including you three," he added, indicating the Slytherins.

Wow, he must be angry, Rowan thought.

"If you wish to hex Potter and his friends into oblivion," Snape continued, "you will have my heartfelt gratitude. Only do not even think about doing it in my classroom again!"

Rowan decided that she could see Snape about her project another time. She started oozing back towards the wall and tried to figure out how to unobtrusively get her wand back. Snape stalked angrily through the classroom, presumably to yell at Potter more effectively. Suddenly, he slipped on one of the slugs and his feet flew out from under him. He landed on another slug with a nauseating squish, and the package he was still holding went flying. Without thinking, Rowan bent over to pick it up for him. She didn't recognize name of Borgin & Burkes on the package, but she knew what an address in Knockturn Alley meant. There was a list affixed to the plain parcel, every item crossed off but one, which drew her glance. Her eyes widened in shock when she read it, but before she could blurt out anything, Snape wrested the package from her.

"And, twenty points from Ravenclaw, Miss Bourne. Hopefully, that will teach you to mind your own business. Now, all of you, take your wands and get out of my sight!" Rowan complied with alacrity and fled to the library.

Taking a secluded carrel, Rowan piled a big stack of potions texts next to her and began to research more potions and spells that might yield invisibility cloth. Maybe it was "Disillusion," or "Darkness," or "Avoidance," to make the eyes turn away. Perhaps a combination. Rowan was having a hard time concentrating. Her mind kept returning to the mysterious package Snape had had delivered.

It was fairly obvious that Professor Snape was preparing to mix a Dark Potion; 'reft virgin's blood' indeed. The question was, why?

The rumors about Snape were as wild and varied as imagination could reach. Many--if not most--students thought the Headmaster was a fool to trust Snape, that Snape had never really renounced Voldemort and was doubly a sneak, betraying Dumbledore to his enemies. Rowan had never believed this for a moment. She trusted Dumbledore, and after six and a half years of watching Snape, she trusted him too. She wasn't entirely certain why; perhaps it was only that she felt, deep down where things she didn't examine closely lived, that evil always tried to seem attractive. Snape's very nastiness, his seemingly complete disregard for what others thought of him, were signs of integrity to Rowan. She never trusted people who seemed too nice to be real.

Still, what could he be doing--what potion was he brewing, and for what purpose was it intended? Was this some weapon Dumbledore planned to use against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Rowan continued to fret but eventually had to come to the conclusion that she was unlikely to find out the truth of the matter. It was nearly curfew; Rowan packed up her books and her notes and went back to the Ravenclaw common room. She'd missed dinner, but that was just as well. Better to stay out of Snape's view until he'd had a chance to calm down. She snuck into the kitchen and let an elf bring her a snack to take back to her room.

When she got to the common room, Ariadne and Edgar were there along with a few other students, all studying.

While she ate her sandwich, Rowan told them what had happened in the Potions classroom that afternoon. Ariadne laughed so hard that she cried at the image Rowan described.

Edgar laughed too, but when she got to the last part, he exclaimed, "Twenty points from Ravenclaw? And detention? But you were only trying to help--he couldn't have thought you were involved in that duel!"

Rowan had a pretty good idea why Snape had been angry enough with her to dock points, but she didn't want to tell that part of the story. "No, I don't think so. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean, he took points from Slytherin! There was no way anyone was getting out of that room unscathed."

"He was probably mad at you for seeing him fall flat on his arse! You should complain to Flitwick--that's completely unfair!"

"Since when has Snape ever been fair with points, Edgar? After all these years of dealing with him, why get upset about it now?"

Edgar continued to bluster on her behalf. Ariadne just collapsed into giggles over and over again. Rowan gave up on both of them and went to bed.

Snape, still seething over the afternoon's events, walked down the road towards the gates after dark. He devoutly hoped Miss Bourne had not realized what the package she had picked up signified. He thought not; she had only held it for a second.

Once off the castle grounds, he Disapparated with a sharp crack. He appeared in the side room at Voldemort's abode and was shown in by Wormtail, to be greeted by the Dark Lord.

"So, my pet Potions master, have you completed your assignment?"

"Yes, My Lord, here are the complete instructions." Snape handed over the copy he had made in the Ministry of Magic.

"Very good, Snape, my faith in you continues unabated." The Dark Lord looked over the parchment, feigning that he was seeing it for the first time. "It says here that it must be prepared at one of the quarters of the year. I want it ready on the Winter Solstice."

"Of course, Master."

"Have you all the ingredients that are required?"

"All but the key ingredient," Snape replied, keeping his voice steady. "I was not able to find it for purchase."

"Well really, Snape, where would the fun be in just shopping for it? In fact, you deserve to be rewarded for so faithfully carrying out your research assignment. You may have the privilege of harvesting that ingredient. I trust you will find a suitable source at Hogwarts. You may take your pick, as long as she is qualified.

"The blood must be added as the very last step, so arrange to bring the girl here the afternoon of the Solstice. It might be detrimental to the potion to move it while it is still in progress. I will have Bella perform the initial steps in the workroom here. All you will need to do is take the girl and add the blood. I trust you find these arrangements satisfactory?"

"Of course, My Lord." Severus bowed out to the anteroom and Apparated back to the castle gates.

Professor Snape stood in the Headmaster's office, pacing before the fire, scorning the squashy chairs. Fawkes stepped back and forth on his perch, listening carefully to the discussion.

"I must report what I have lately learned, Headmaster. The Dark Lord has discovered the existence of an ancient potion, Aversion Serum. Its purpose is to turn one's most loyal friends into one's bitterest enemies. It is powerful enough to work on contact with the skin; therefore, it may be thrown. The Dark Lord has not revealed to me to what use he intends to put this potion, but I can only assume that you, as his most powerful enemy, are the intended target."

"Such a potion would certainly appeal to Voldemort; it works by twisting the power which he fears most into a weapon in his own hand. It is the sort of evil that is his very trademark. This is very grave news, Severus. Do you know if he has the instructions on how to prepare the serum?"

"He does; he required me to research it. I found it in the library at the Department of Mysteries."

"Was it wise to bring him that information?"

"I was not the only agent he sent after it. It was quite certain, from the situation in which I found the book containing the recipe, that another had been there not long before. Sending me was merely a test, which it seemed best to pass."

"If that is so, then I agree. There could be no further harm in bringing him information he already knew. I had an inkling, before this, that Voldemort had a new plan. A few nights ago, Harry Potter reported to me that his scar pained him and he had bad dreams. It seemed to him that Voldemort was particularly gleeful. I believe that this must have been the reason, that he had learned how to make the potion. How soon do you think he will be able to have it ready?"

"The potion is strongest when brewed at one of the year's quarters - either solstice or equinox. The Dark Lord wastes no time in this, he will have the potion on the Winter Solstice."

"That is only a few days away."

"Precisely." Snape paused and looked distinctly uncomfortable. "There is something else I must tell you, Headmaster. This is a Dark potion of a high order; it requires reft virgin's blood as its key ingredient." Dumbledore looked very grave, but not surprised, at that news. Fawkes stirred on his perch and ruffled his feathers.

"I attempted to purchase some, but my efforts have so-far failed. In any case, the Dark Lord has commanded me to produce a suitable victim for the purpose from among the students. I am required to collect her blood myself. I believe this is intended to be something of a reward," Snape said, his voice devoid of expression.

"Severus, you were not thinking of going through with such a thing?" Dumbledore asked, looking sharply at Snape.

"I admit that I considered it, Headmaster. Countless more innocents would be harmed, in far worse ways, should the Dark Lord ultimately conquer. If we cannot keep abreast of his plans, he may very well do so." Snape looked bleak and continued softly, "In any case, it would hardly be the worst thing I have done in my life. The girl could be Obliviated and need never know."

"Until she later had occasion to wonder why she was not a virgin," Dumbledore responded. "You know that sort of shock can break through the best memory charm. In any case, we cannot do such a thing to a student. They are under my protection. Even if it means much worse is to follow, I cannot allow it."

Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily and looked, for once, every one of his years. "I understand your point of view: one girl harmed to save many others. Still, those others are nameless and unknowable. They belong to the future, and disaster may be averted in other ways. The girl Voldemort wants--she would not be nameless, she would be one of your students. How would you choose?"

Snape went white, then flushed. He thought of a name; she would be strong enough to bear it. Still, Dumbledore was right, he could not sacrifice her. Not any of the others either, but especially not her. Those countless, faceless others would have to be saved another way.

Dumbledore went on, "Hitherto, I have only disagreed with you, Severus, but now I must insist that you cease your spying. You have brought us tremendously valuable information, but it is ended."

"Headmaster, you know that one does not resign from the Dark Lord's service. Right now the Dark Lord merely does not fully trust me. If I reject him, he will handsomely reward the one to bring him my liver on a salver."

"Of course, Severus. When he knows you have betrayed him, you will be marked for death. Still, I do not think you will be in worse danger than you are now. He could discover you at any time, or require something even worse than this from you."

"I have deceived him this long."

"I am not speaking merely of your life, Severus. You have practiced the Dark Arts before, you have felt their seduction. You cannot believe you could do such a thing as you have suggested, and keep your soul? I want your word that you will not oppose me in this."

"Very well, Headmaster. If you insist, I give you my word."

Fawkes gave Snape an approving look, then flew from his perch and settled on Snape's shoulder. As Snape stroked Fawkes's plumage, Fawkes opened his wings and flicked his feathers. One small fiery feather came loose and dropped to the carpet. Dumbledore stooped and picked it up. "Thank you, Fawkes. Take this, Severus, and keep it with you at all times. The Order continues to watch the Floo Network here, and after what happened two years ago, I had Professor Flitwick assist me to increase the spells warding the castle. If anyone Portkeys in or out of Hogwarts, it shall not go undetected. If, despite these measures, anything happens, Fawkes will be able to help us find you."

Author's Notes: "To Anachreon in Heaven" was a popular late eighteenth-century tavern song, popular in both Britain and the U.S., who's bastard offspring by an attorney-cum-amateur poet, grew up to be a certain well-known national anthem.