Chapter Twenty-Five: At elbow and foot

Chapter Twenty-Five: At elbow and foot

30 April – 2 May 1998

Minerva laughed. "My, my. Have I risen in his estimation, then? Or is he merely irked that he had to give up his plans to kidnap me?"

"Neither," Severus said, hoping that despite her laughter and his own flippancy, she was taking this new problem seriously. "He still underestimates you and he no longer cares about finding Potter. He simply wants you out of the way so that I can step in as Headmaster."

"Hmmph. Well, that's good. Better that he underestimates us all, don't you think, Severus?" Minerva asked, a gleam in her eye. "How are you supposed to kill me? And when are you supposed to do the deed? Or am I supposed to be dead already?"

"No, he has left the 'how' up to me, and the 'when'...it will be at a strategic point, he said. I believe he wants me to do it to coincide with the attempt to take the Ministry, or at least finally to assassinate Scrimgeour. He will be the primary target of the attack on the Ministry."

"Good, then we don't have to worry about my murder for a little while, perhaps not at all if the attack on the Ministry coincides with the attack on Hogwarts."

Severus shook his head. "This persuades me even more that the attack on the Ministry will come first...with the attack on Hogwarts to follow very, very close on its heels. I believe he will want you dead before he attacks Hogwarts, and me, either nowhere to be found but at his side or here, ready to surrender the school to him. He is aware that there would be resistance to him even if I were here and Acting Headmaster, but I could make it easier for him to get at Potter, which is what he desires above all else. He believes that once Potter is dead, everything else will simply fall into his lap with only a few, easily overcome problems after that. His belief in the prophecy has him convinced of it. He believes that 'the one with the power to vanquish him' means the only one with that power, and that once Potter is out of the way, nothing can stand in his way."

"We still won't need to deal with it until it becomes apparent to him that you have not killed me. You can always lie, tell him that you have, and then be shocked when I'm not dead."

Severus took in a breath and let it out slowly. "I think by that time, he will know that I am a traitor. If he hasn't discovered it already, that will confirm it. He will know that the wand is not the Deathstick he's looking for, he will see that there have been preparations made for the attack even if I drop the Anti-Apparition wards for him, and he will begin to realise that all of my failures were deliberate. The locket, the diadem, the wand, the failure...I hope...to assassinate Scrimgeour during the attack on the Ministry, the failure of the potion at Azkaban, everything, large and small, will finally fall into place and he will know that I have always been a traitor." He looked into Minerva's eyes. "And do not tell me that I have to kill you in order to look as though I am loyal to him. I won't do it."

Minerva chuckled. "Oh, no, Severus. I have no desire to have you or anyone else kill me, although I do agree, that would be one way to overcome his doubts about your loyalty to him. Of course, he could also simply believe that you are an ambitious Slytherin who wants to be Headmaster, but that would amount to the same thing. I hope that we can find another way to protect you when he discovers your true loyalties. Perhaps he won't realise until after you have returned to the castle. You will still be in danger with the rest of us, and likely a particular target, but you would have a good chance of survival."

"I don't know." He was so tired. "Somehow I doubt that once I have dropped the wards, he will let me out of his sight."

"Drop them but don't go to him..."

"We will have to see. He could suspect some kind of trap if I do not go to him, and our efforts may be undermined. If I can delay him from joining the Death Eaters on the grounds, I will. It may save lives if he is kept away long enough. It could give you all a chance to eliminate some of his force. Once he is here . . . his magic is powerful, Minerva," Severus said with a shake of his head. "You call him 'toe-rag,' but you must recognise that he is powerful. Perhaps as powerful as Albus was, or very nearly. And whatever he has done to himself, he is not as susceptible to curses as a normal wizard. Part of it is wandless magic, but part of it is something else, and I don't know what, unless Potter's substance has truly afforded him some special protection. But it may be some other factor at play."

"Regardless, do try to make it back to us, Severus," Minerva replied. "I could stay in the background until you have returned, have Filius in charge and give the impression that I am not available. That might give you time to escape him before he realises your betrayal."

Severus shook his head. "No, you are the general, Minerva. I have seen only a little of what you are doing to prepare, but I know that. You cannot hide in the background and allow so many people to believe that you are dead or even that you may be missing. You need to be present to orchestrate everything and lead the defence. I hope you won't be in the forefront of the fighting, but you cannot disappear." Severus quirked a small smile. "Besides, I want my reward after all these years. I want to see his face and hear his outrage when he realises that I have been betraying him for more than fifteen years, that it has all been a lie, that I, whom he believed useful but far inferior to him, that I have been playing him for a fool, that my mind and my magic kept him from the truth." His smirk grew. "That will be a worthy moment, when he realises that in this, at least, I was more powerful than he. And I will have my vengeance and my victory. So do not be concerned, Minerva. It will be a sweet moment for me. And knowing that my vengeance and my victory have helped you and the others to live and defeat him fully, that will be sweet, as well."

"Hopefully, you will have that moment of victory," Minerva said, "but without having to die immediately after."

Severus shook his head. "At that point, he will kill me. I have no doubt. And as a traitor, he will want me to have a traitor's death. He'll likely wish to kill me slowly and ignominiously." He tried to suppress a grimace, but Minerva saw it. "He likes to kill slowly himself, although when he gets bored, he usually finishes with the Killing Curse, but he does sometimes just leaves his victims to die of whatever injuries he has inflicted on them. And a traitor or someone who has incurred his personal wrath, such a person is often fed to Nagini afterward...or even killed by the snake. The last time he had Nagini kill someone, he had Pettigrew undress the corpse to make it easier for Nagini to eat him...though I think the poor wretch was still alive at that point, but hopefully not conscious. It seems to take a while for someone to die of Nagini's bite, depending on where they are bitten, which pleases the Dark Lord to see, particularly when Nagini begins to swallow them and they are still twitching. That probably would have been Higgs's fate if I hadn't poisoned him first. For all I know, he still fed him to Nagini after I left. Yes, once the Dark Lord learns of my betrayal, I am dead and likely Nagini's next meal. If he's in a hurry, I may be lucky and receive the Killing Curse, unless he simply decides to leave me to Nagini's tender mercies, aware of the slow death that I would suffer."

"Let us hope he does not succeed in killing you," Minerva said softly. "I want to celebrate your victory with you, Severus, and I want to be able to stand in front of everyone and tell them of your bravery and your loyalty, and to have you stand beside me as I tell everyone that Severus Snape is my much-loved friend and that the salvation of the wizarding world could not have been achieved without him."

A lump rose in Severus's throat. "Will you . . . if you live, will you do that? Even though I am dead and not celebrating with you?" She would surely forget in the joy of the moment, forget him, lying in the belly of a snake or rotting on a forest floor somewhere.

"I certainly will," Minerva said, reaching for him and resting her hand on his wrist, "but I will find it harder to celebrate, knowing you aren't there with me. And any celebration will be tinged with sorrow at all we have lost to achieve that victory. But I will tell everyone that you should be there with us, and I will tell them why. I do hope you are beside me, though, Severus. Please, don't give up, even when you have your moment of victory, think of us and try to return to us. I know that you believe you will die, but please don't simply die in resignation. Carry your triumph into your last breath, if you must, but don't give up. Please."

"Minerva, I . . ." Severus swallowed and tried to control his breathing, fighting the burning in his eyes and in his throat. "I . . . payment . . . I must pay. I betrayed her."

"Not deliberately. The toe-rag used his imagination and his own self-hatred to target Lily's son. You may have set it in motion, but you did not tell him how to interpret the prophecy. You betrayed him, Severus," Minerva said vehemently. "You came to Albus, and at risk of your own life, you betrayed him to save Lily. It was Pettigrew who betrayed Lily, who betrayed them all, James, Lily, Sirius, Lily's baby, and the entire wizarding world. You tried to protect her just as Albus did, and you and Albus were not responsible for the Potters' choice of Pettigrew to be the Secret Keeper, nor for his choice to betray them. And whatever your responsibility in the matter was...and I am not saying that you bear none at all...you have long since repaid any debt incurred, and you are having your vengeance for which you have waited all these long years. More than that, you are not simply exacting retribution and paying a debt, you are attaining redemption. You are doing more than simply avenging Lily's death, as you desired when you agreed with Albus's plan all those years ago. You are more than you were then, and I am grateful to you for all you have done. Your death would be no payment for any debt to Lily. You have long since paid that debt, and she would not desire your death."

Severus shook his head. "Even my death would be insufficient. I have come to realise that. But I will still have my vengeance, and my death will help you and Potter and the Order to bring an end to him. My death will not be without purpose. It will be a step stone for you." He sighed when he looked at her and saw the distress in her eyes. "I will try, though, for you. I will remember you and won't give up in my moment of triumph. I will fight the bastard to my last breath, if that is your wish." He twitched a smile. "You can remember that of me, too, even if there is none left alive to tell of it. Remember that I won't just give up, even if the fight is futile, and I'll be thinking of you and of Albus and of everyone else who has not given up on me despite myself. Hmm? So don't cry, Minerva. Please." He turned his arm and took her hand in his. If she cried, he would no longer be able to hold back his own tears.

Minerva blinked back the tears that had begun to gather in her eyes. "Good, very good. Don't let go of life easily, Severus. Not yet. Later, later after you have had your long life, then I will not begrudge you a gentle passage into death, but fight it now, and fight the Dark Lord. You may not believe you have any hope, but there may be some yet."

"And even if there isn't any hope, I'll still resist him for you. I promise."

"Thank you, Severus. I worry so. You seem so resigned." She squeezed his hand. "The way you speak sometimes, I have worried that you would simply give up and walk straight to your death without a struggle. I know you are tired, I can't imagine how tired you are, and I know that you have suffered increasingly over the last few years, especially this last one, and I understand that death might appear more attractive than continued suffering, but I hope that you do not die before your time. And I hope that you live after this is all over and learn something of life beyond the narrow, painful existence you have borne for these many years."

Severus closed his eyes and bowed his head. He did not wish to speak more of this. He wished to shove his suffering down into his gut, away from his heart and his mind. Minerva was right: he was tired and death did seem attractive. But he had already promised her that he would not meekly allow the Dark Lord to take his life without a fight, and he would do that for her and for his own meagre pride, what remained of it in his exhaustion, and yet more . . . more than that he could not do. He knew of Minerva's hope, and of Hermione's, that he live, a hope that Albus had shared before he had died, but they would have to hope without him. Severus knew he would die, and he accepted it, whether as payment for a debt or as the natural, logical end to his misbegotten life. Minerva could expect no more from him than that he would try not to make it easy for the evil bastard to kill him. And then he would accept his death when it did come and he would welcome it. Gods, the mere thought that he might live after the fall of the Dark Lord . . . it was not merely impossible to contemplate, it would be an impossible life. There was no Severus Snape beyond this narrow existence. It was not simply justice that he die, but it was necessity. The universe cannot accommodate such an impossibility.

"I am sorry, Severus," Minerva whispered. "You are tired. You need to sleep. Do you have more to report?"

Severus opened his eyes. "He is still as angry as he was on Sunday night about the failure of the attack on Azkaban, but he does not suspect the poison. The guard who was to have administered it and who lowered the wards is dead, so the Dark Lord was unable to question him. Still, he lost two of his Death Eaters, not counting the dead guard, and freed only nine of the more than thirty he had hoped for, not including Malfoy. Unfortunately, those freed include the Lestranges and others of similar ilk...everyone who had been captured during the failed attack on the Ministry two years ago, in fact. Nonetheless, it could be worse. Malfoy . . . it is as I told you before the attack. He was taken from Azkaban only to be kept as a living symbol of the consequences of incompetence and betrayal. The Dark Lord has told Malfoy that his wife and son are dead, that he killed them himself after lengthy torture." Severus grimaced, almost looking as if he were about to be sick. "He even told Malfoy that he had given Draco to Bella, the boy's own aunt, to be her toy until he finally killed him. I had believed that Bella at least cared for her sister, and possibly for Draco, even if she cared for no others, but clearly her enthusiasm for this concocted story demonstrates that she cares for only two people: the Dark Lord and herself, in that order. I wish I could tell Lucius that it isn't true, that they live and are safe somewhere in hiding, but there is no way for me to do that. I would even kill him if I could, just so that he does not have to continue to suffer. He is not a good man, but he has helped me in the past, and whatever he has done, what the Dark Lord is doing to him . . . it is inhuman."

"You said once that you might be required to join in, to punish him," Minerva said softly. "Have you had to?"

"One of the few blessings in recent days, I have not. Standing by and watching, or simply seeing him in a huddled heap on the floor, his robes bloody rags, covered in filth, as the Dark Lord eats and drinks and makes his plans . . . that is difficult enough."

"And of the planned attack on the Ministry?"

"The primary goal, as I had already guessed, is to eliminate Scrimgeour. The Dark Lord is frustrated that none of his previous, more covert attempts have succeeded...indeed, that the two Aurors who had been targeted for Imperio not only were able to resist the Imperio, but actually arrested the Death Eaters inside the Ministry who had tried to put them under the Imperius, that truly enrages him." Severus smirked. "Shacklebolt did well in choosing Scrimgeour's guards."

Minerva nodded. "And not just in choosing the guards. Everyone who works closely with the Minister or has access to his office has had to show that they could throw off even a very strongly cast Imperio or they were moved to another department. Moody helped Shacklebolt train and test them. Scrimgeour has you to thank that he was not captured or killed months ago."

"It was simply a logical course of action. The Ministry would likely have done something similar even without my warnings."

"Mmm, I don't think so," Minerva said, shaking her head. "It is a pity that Pius Thicknesse had to be killed before Scrimgeour took Kingsley's warnings seriously, though. Scrimgeour was a canny Auror, but some of his decisions . . ."

"Becoming Minister did not improve his judgment. If he...and Fudge before him...had listened to the Headmaster years ago, much of this could have been avoided."

"So, fill me in on what I need to pass on to Arthur and Shacklebolt, and then if there's nothing else of urgency, you should go to bed and try to get some sleep. Poppy said that she was sending a mild sleeping draught to your chambers tonight, so you should take it."

"Perhaps, if I cannot sleep...very well, very well, I will take it," Severus said in response to Minerva's glare. He hesitated. Every evening, there was either vanilla-, orange-, or vegetable-flavoured nutritional potion waiting for him on the table in his sitting room, and every morning when he woke up, there was a coffee-flavoured nutritional potion...something Poppy had apparently procured especially for him, although he had made no special request except to say that the chocolate was too sweet. "Thank Poppy for me. It will be welcome to get more sleep."

"I will. You do have a lot of people who care about you, you know, Severus."

"Poppy is paid to care."

"Severus . . ." Minerva sighed. "I would berate you, but we're both too tired for that. Just tell me what I need to pass on to Shacklebolt and Arthur."

"Where is Crouch?" Severus asked, wondering for the first time where Minerva's shadow was.

"He is with Alroy and Hagrid down in the Thestral paddock. He should be back soon, though, if you need to speak with him."

"No. I just wondered." He took a deep breath and prepared to recite the few facts that he had been able to glean about the raid on the Ministry.

Minerva listened attentively, asking few questions. His account was clear and concise, and when he was finished, Minerva shook her head.

"I don't see that the attack can succeed...not now that we know of it, anyway," she said.

"He assumes complete surprise, and he doesn't care who dies as long as Scrimgeour is one of them. Anyone else is expendable."

"I am glad you won't be going, that you're supposed to be here killing me," Minerva said.

"As long as you don't actually expect me to kill you, I am, as well," Severus replied.

Minerva smiled and said, "No, I wouldn't ask you to do that...unless it were to save me from something worse."

Severus stood. "That is what the Headmaster believed he was asking of me," he said softly.

"I know. And he realised that there was an alternative, and he took it," Minerva replied, standing. "I mean only that if I am in the toe-rag's hands, I would prefer you to kill me than to end up like Malfoy, or worse."

"I would not allow that, Minerva."

"I know, Severus, I know." She looked up at him. "You are the most loyal of friends. And I am very sorry for all that I have put you through."

"It was all my choice. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Minerva did not reply to that, though a brief pained expression crossed her face.

"Good night, Headmistress," Severus said softly.

He had reached the door and laid his hand on the doorknob when Minerva suddenly stopped him.

"Wait, Severus! I almost forgot!"

She went over to the desk and pulled open the centre drawer.

"For you," she said, holding out a small package wrapped in brown paper.

Severus knit his brow, crossing over to take it from her. "What is it?"

"I don't know. Gareth was here earlier. He had hoped to see you, but he had to leave before you returned, and he asked me to give this to you."

Severus raised one eyebrow, but put the package in the pocket of his robes.

"Good night, Severus. Sleep well...don't forget to take the potion!"

"I will remember it," Severus replied.

When he reached his rooms, he found the two potions on his table, a small brown bottle beside the larger bottle of nutritional potion. Green. The vegetable one that night. Severus swallowed it down. It wasn't bad, really, and he did think he felt the better for taking them.

There was a note this time, the first since the one that had accompanied the initial bottle of potion.

Severus,

The smaller bottle contains Somnus Potion. It's one of Murdoch's, so it's good quality. Please take it. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how and when to take it.

I hope you sleep well.

...Poppy

Severus brought the small brown bottle with him into his bedroom and set it on his bedside table, then as he removed his teaching robe, he felt the small package in his pocket and set that down with it as well. He picked up his watch and opened it, not really checking the time or the sidereal alignments, only reassuring himself of its possession. He never brought it with him when he went to the Dark Lord's side. It was doubtful he would ever see it, but Severus did not wish to risk it. He wished he could bring it with him on the last day, but he didn't want any Death Eaters to get their grubby hands on it after he was dead. No, he would leave it here, and Minerva could find it and keep it, pass it on to someone worthy of it.

After a quick shower, though nothing could wash off the sense of defilement he felt every time he returned from a meeting with the Dark Lord, Severus donned a grey nightshirt and sat down on the edge of his bed. Somnus Potion was not particularly powerful, but he should be able to get a few hours of solid sleep, provided he didn't have nightmares. Unlike Dreamless Sleep, Somnus took several minutes to take effect, but if he wanted to see what was in McGonagall's package, he should open it before taking the sleeping draught.

Severus didn't have very much energy remaining for mere curiosity, but as he reached for the sleeping potion, his hand paused, hovering over the brown package. It was late. It could wait until morning, he was sure. Yet the memory of McGonagall the last time he saw him prodded him to pick up the package.

The brown paper was held in place with an easily broken Sticking Charm. Severus carefully removed the paper, folded it once, then put it on the night stand. He took the lid off of the dark blue cardboard box. There was a note. As Severus took the note, he saw what was beneath it and his eyebrows rose.

Snape...

You may remember this. I thought it might come in handy for you. You might consider inside your left sleeve. A little charm should hold it in place nicely.

I understand that the gift of a knife severs a friendship and that it is traditional to accept something in return, so one day soon you can buy me a drink in exchange. I'll take an I.O.U. in the meantime, unless you don't care to make this a trade. Whichever is the case, the knife is yours now. It's not Charmed or magical in anyway, purely Muggle, but sometimes, that's just what is needed. Be careful with it...I once cut myself.

Take care of yourself.

...G.R. McGonagall

Severus took the flick knife from the box. The handle was plain, smooth and matte black, only the ends shiny steel, but it was well constructed. He pressed a hidden button and the blade sprang out with a satisfying click. He picked up the brown wrapping paper and sliced through it. One corner of his mouth turned up. It was sharp as a razor. He remembered that McGonagall seemed to have retracted it automatically. He pressed the button again, but nothing happened. Frowning, he turned the knife over and examined it. Perhaps McGonagall had used magic to retract it. He tried pushing on the back of the blade, but it was locked in place. Then he saw a small indentation on the handle with a second button. He pressed it, the blade unlocked, and he was able to swing it back into the handle.

Severus did this a few more times, flicking the knife open then swinging it closed. For something wholly non-magical, it felt good in his hand. He put it back in the small box, his eye catching sight of McGonagall's note. An I.O.U., indeed! Superstitious nonsense.

He waved his hand, extinguished his lamps, and lay down in bed, then he sighed and relit one of the lamps. He would not be able to sleep without the potion, and he had promised Minerva he would take it.

Severus sat up and looked for the bottle of sleeping draught. He saw Gareth's note again. He doubted that McGonagall was really superstitious about such things. But the threads between them were few, tenuous, and easily severed. Not friendship, precisely . . . he had no need for friends. Minerva and Hermione, if they were friends, they would suffice. He reached for the potion but picked up the knife. His thumb rubbed the smooth black handle. That hadn't been an expression of superstition. It had been a tentative offer of friendship. If he did nothing, McGonagall would know that he had no interest in his offer.

He put the knife back in its box. Foolishness. He wouldn't live to buy McGonagall a drink, let alone become friends with the irritating wizard.

Severus began to reach for the potion again, but then he stood, went out to his sitting room, found a piece of parchment, and standing at his table, he wrote:

"G.R. McGonagall...I.O.U. one drink....S. Snape"

He folded the note twice, sealed it with a charm, then wrote Gareth's name on the outside. He didn't know how to get it to him, but it was written. He could give it to Minerva if he remembered. If he didn't, they would find it after his death, and McGonagall . . . McGonagall could buy his own damned drink.

---

"That lends credence to our interpretation of the prophecy."

"Mm. I would say it lends support to our own plans which were based upon logical deductions," Minerva replied, pulling his arms closer around her as she felt him chuckle and kiss the back of her neck.

"In any case, I think we will succeed."

"I hope so, but I will not count on it," Minerva replied, burrowing more deeply under the covers and trying to get closer to him, as though that were possible. "And Buckbeak?"

"Very happy to be back in the Forest. We should have moved him after Sirius died. Keeping him in the attic for two or three years . . . even for one, it may have seemed the right thing at the time, but I think it was cruelty. We should have relocated him somewhere else."

"Yes, well, he was company for Sirius, and then Remus wanted to take care of him, feed him. I think it made him feel closer to Sirius," Minerva replied. "And you have to admit, something good did come of it."

"What's that?"

"Remus and Tonks. I understand that's how they started seeing each other, how Nymphadora managed to convince him to embark on a relationship," Minerva said. "She started helping him feed Buckbeak."

"'Witherwings' now, just in case anyone from the Ministry remembers him and feels vindictive enough to still want to kill the creature despite the Malfoys' absence."

"I don't know if I will remember that," Minerva said with a yawn. "I think I'm asleep already."

Robbie kissed the back of her head. "Sleep then, my love. Morning will be here soon."

---

"This is too early for a Saturday morning," Terry grumbled, yawning. "What couldn't wait until our meeting tonight?"

"Dean and I were talking yesterday. Actually," Neville said, looking over at the tall Gryffindor, "he came to me and said we needed to talk. So we met here last night. He has brought up a very valid concern, and he's got an idea about what we can do about it. I'll let him explain."

Dean smiled at the other sixth- and seventh-year students. "My uncle is a commander in the Royal Navy, and one of my aunts is a colonel in the Army. She's a doctor...that's like a Healer," he explained. "Anyway, after remembering a conversation between them, I realised that one of the things that we need to worry about is something that Muggles call 'friendly fire.' It doesn't sound so bad from the name, but it is. 'Friendly fire' is getting hit by your own side. I'm worried that we might accidentally hit someone we don't mean to. I've also noticed that we're just not very good at aiming in general, and since the Massuelius and Frangere in particular need to be aimed where you want to hit, I think we need to practice aiming, especially when everyone is moving around and people are getting in the way."

"That sounds good," Ginny said, "but we can't start hexing each other just for practice, not with these spells."

"No, we can't. But we can practise aiming at moving targets, and we can also practise avoiding hitting each other. The first is simple enough, since we could get the Room of Requirement to have the dummies move around, but I actually have another idea for target practice and for avoiding hitting people on our side." Dean looked around, trying to spot other Muggle-borns. There were a few, and a few more with at least one Muggle parent. "Ever heard of laser tag or paintball?"

"Yeah! Cool!" Colin said, his excitement shining in his eyes. "When do we start?"

Dean laughed. "Well, first we have to work out some kinks. I decided we need a wizarding version of paintball using our wands and not rifles, since we'll be using wands to cast the hexes and the principle for aiming a spell is different from aiming a gun. I've been able to come up with a nice spell for casting paintballs, but I haven't figured out how to control the colour."

"I still don't know what a paint ball is," Ernie Macmillan complained, "or why we would want a ball of paint in any colour."

After further explanation of what paintball and laser tag were, some discussion of the merits of the plan, and a little practice...and implementing Hermione's suggestions for changing the colour of the paint...they were able to reliably cast small paintballs from the ends of their wands. By changing the ending to the spell, they could indicate which colour they wished the paint to be.

"No aiming at the head," Hermione said. "It might only sting, but if you got hit in the eye, you might actually get hurt."

Dean grinned. "Good point. When I've played paintball with my cousins, they actually got bruises and welts from the paintballs, and if they were hit in the head, they got big bumps. They can't understand why I only got stung a little when a paintball hit me." He shrugged and laughed. "Only one of them knows I'm a wizard, and that's because he was living with us when I got my Hogwarts letter. Kind of hard to hide it after that. We usually play laser tag, but I don't like that as much because it's indoors." He looked around at the Room of Requirement. "I think we should ask the Room to give us something more like the outdoors, the way Professor Firenze's classroom is."

"Are you sure this isn't dangerous?" Zacharias asked. "Not that I'm afraid, but if one of us ends up in the Hospital Wing, people would ask questions, and my mum would go spare if I had to have an eyeball regrown."

Dean sighed. "It's not dangerous. You'll hardly feel a thing. If you're worried about your eyes, use a Bubblehead Charm to protect them. Muggles wear protective gear, and I suppose we could conjure some goggles or ask the room to supply them, but I hope everyone's aim will be good enough we won't need them."

"I suggest that we just practise some casting now," Neville said, "and then this evening when we all meet together, we can teach the younger years. We'll worry about goggles then. We will also be having a guest at that meeting, and I wanted to tell you now so you won't be surprised. Professor Crouch will be here to..."

"I thought we weren't going to tell anyone else," Ginny said in surprise.

"We are coordinating with . . . with some of the staff who are doing something similar," Neville said, trying not to be specific, "and Professor Crouch..."

"We hardly know Professor Crouch, though," Terry pointed out. "He's a competent Defence teacher for once...all right, Lupin wasn't too bad, and Snape was decent if you could get past the fact that he was Snape...but we really don't know him."

"I like him, myself, but I don't think we should trust him," Zacharias added.

"And what kinds of preparations are the staff making?" Ernie asked. "Do they know something we don't?"

"If you will stop interrupting me, I can tell you, and then we can get on with our practice," Neville said with a glower that was a fair imitation of his new source of inspiration. When everyone was looking at him and had stopped whispering with each other, Neville continued, "I cannot tell you anything about what the staff is doing or why they are preparing a defence, mainly because I don't know very much, but I spoke with . . . with someone, and that person needs to be able to coordinate everything. We can't all just be running around, doing whatever we feel like, possibly getting in each others' way or working at cross-purposes. Obviously, the goal will always be the same, to protect Hogwarts...or wherever else we might be...against Death Eaters. But there is enough chaos in a battle without having leaders on the same side who aren't working together."

"And why did you go see this mysterious person? And why you? You started this, but who made you leader?" Ernie demanded.

"We did," Hermione said, answering for him. "We didn't vote or anything like that, but when we decided to listen to Neville and to follow his directions and learn his offensive spells, we made him our leader. And as to why he went to see this person, it was because I asked him to. I had been approached about our group, but I believed it was Neville's place to speak to, um, the person, and not mine."

Neville smiled briefly at Hermione. Any concerns he had had about her disappeared in that moment. She could be bossy, but she also recognised that he was the leader, and she would support him and not try to take over.

"Now, back to the point before we all miss breakfast," Neville said. "Professor Crouch will be coming in order to see our progress and to show us a couple different shield charms. He's also going to demonstrate a couple NEWT's level defensive charms to some of the younger years, such as two people combining their Protegos."

"That's useful," Ernie said sarcastically. "How many of us can do that? Or do it and sustain it? And that's in a classroom setting. It's pointless to try to teach the young kids to do the combined Protego."

"Still, it wouldn't be bad to have them see the Protego connex demonstrated," Hermione said, "and sometimes you can actually do better under pressure if your life depends on it."

"And Professor Crouch has one particular defensive charm that isn't part of the NEWTs curriculum. He said it's an old one, not taught at Hogwarts, and it's good against a lot of Dark spells," Neville said. "And we know that he is Professor McGonagall's friend. I think it's a good idea."

There was a little bit more grumbling, but it was a fait accompli, and so, despite Ernie's continuing scepticism, they wanted to get to breakfast. They practised casting for a little longer, then left, a few at a time, and headed down to the Great Hall.

---

Severus nodded to Minerva when he entered her office.

"Good morning, Severus."

"Minerva."

"Any news?"

"None. I simply wished to use the library, if I may."

"Of course. I am expecting Melina soon. Are you going to be very long?"

Severus hesitated. "I do not know."

Minerva nodded. "Take your time." She tilted her head slightly. "I believe she is on her way up now. She had mentioned last time that she was here that she wished to see you..."

"I am in fine health," Severus said. "I am taking the potions that Poppy sends me. It is unnecessary for her to see me."

Minerva raised her eyebrows in amusement. "I do believe that she wanted to see you personally, Severus, not in her professional capacity. Some people do, you know."

Severus had no time to respond to that; Minerva waved her wand and admitted her niece to the office.

Melina blew into the room, full of energy, her face lighting up when she saw her aunt and Severus.

"Good morning!" Melina greeted them, her eyes sparkling. "And a very good morning it is!" She turned to Severus. "Oh, Severus! I just..."

To Severus's immense surprise, the witch flung her arms around him and stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. Before he had time to do any more than stiffen slightly at the unexpected onslaught, Melina had released him and stepped back. Severus blushed. Minerva had come around the desk, her mouth slightly open in anticipation, her eyes bright and fixed on her niece.

"Sorry, Severus," Melina said. "I had to get that out of my system, and before you could prepare to jump out of my way!"

"Is it...?" Minerva asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it is," Melina said with a laugh. She apparently hadn't completely got her enthusiasm quite out of her system yet, and she reached out and squeezed Severus's arm briefly. "Quin, Severus! Quin! For the last several weeks, I've been working on the problem using the information you gave me...finally including having one very wonderful and brave wizard have me cast the Timere magia on him so that I could try the..."

"And it worked?" Severus asked, interrupting. "Aren't you a pureblood?"

"Yes, I suppose am, but I have lived half in the Muggle world for a very long time and am married to a Muggle. I admit that it took me three days and several attempts before I could cast it, but..."

"Later, Melina!" Minerva said impatiently. "What happened?"

"It's more what didn't happen," Melina said, her eyes shining in joy and justifiable pride. "I just came from Quin's, where I was able to take out my wand and cast several spells in his presence with absolutely no ill effect on him whatsoever! That was the final step...or almost the final step. We have to work on rehabilitating his own magic now, it has been so many years since he has used it, and he has even suppressed his awareness of it flowing through his body, so he will have a lot of work ahead of him."

"That's wonderful! That's absolutely wonderful," Minerva repeated, tears gathering in her eyes. "Have you told Alroy yet?"

"No. I did stop by his quarters in Gryffindor Tower before I came here, since I thought he should know first, but when I couldn't find him, well, I was too excited to wait to tell you." Melina looked up at Severus, smiling. "Thank you very much, Severus. Quin will be able to regain some of his life now, and Aine will be freed, as well. She has spent the last twenty-five years living with her father as a Muggle, and although it has not been a bad life, she will be glad to be able to interact with the wizarding world more than she has and then eventually leave her father to take care of himself."

Severus found himself returning Melina's smile. "I am glad to have been of help."

"I was going to tell you about our progress when I was here last, but now I'm glad that I didn't see you until today," Melina replied. "And I know what you said about not telling anyone you gave us the information, but Gareth's already guessed. It's probably best that no one else know yet, but once everything's over, I would like to at least tell Quin who he has to thank."

Severus hesitated. He would be dead then. And it might be one more person who would be inclined to think of him as something other than a Death Eater. It shouldn't matter to him how he was remembered, but it did.

Severus nodded stiffly. "If you wish. After it's over."

"Good!" Melina turned to her aunt, seeming more sober. "Now, we have that other matter to discuss."

"Yes," Minerva agreed. "I think in my study rather than here. Severus, feel free to use the library for as long as you wish. Are you meeting Miss Granger?"

"No, I have no plans to, though she may wish to use the library today, as well," Severus replied. He wanted to take another look at the book in which Crouch had found the potion formula. He had briefly glanced at the formula itself just before he had delivered the potion to the Dark Lord, but hadn't taken the time to look at the book itself, although there appeared to be some very intriguing spells and potions in it. Severus hoped that Crouch hadn't taken the book back yet.

"Very well. I will be unavailable for at least the next hour, should you see anyone else, unless it is an emergency," Minerva said.

"I shall handle anything that may arise," Severus replied. "I will leave the door to the library open while I am there."

"Thank you, Severus."

"It was good to see you," Melina said, her smile returning. "I am glad that I could tell you myself. I hope you are able to meet Quin one day. I think you would like him."

Severus simply nodded and forbore mentioning that it was unlikely that Quin would like him, although he might be grateful to him. Besides, he would be dead then.

Minerva stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh, Severus, I forgot to mention it, but I sent your note on to Gareth for you."

"Thank you," Severus replied, thinking again that his I.O.U. had been foolish...but harmless, he supposed.

In the library, Severus bent and looked for the small book where he had replaced it on one of the bottom shelves. Crouch hadn't taken it back yet, and Severus found it easily.

He settled into one of the chairs at the end of the long table and looked at the book again. It was clearly very old and had been well used over the years. The soft leather binding was not desiccated, still supple even after many decades, perhaps centuries, though the writing on the front cover was nearly illegible. Severus held the book in front of him, tilting it in the light until he could see the slightly impressed letters. It looked like "vita furtiva, vindicta occulta, nex abdita." He raised an eyebrow. "Secret life, concealed vengeance, hidden murder"? Something of that sort, anyway, and certainly not the kind of book he would have expected a retiring, though multi-talented, middle-aged apothecary from Amsterdam to possess. Of course, Crouch hadn't said that it was his book, merely that he had a potion that he thought would meet their needs. Still, Crouch had found it and the potion quickly.

Severus opened the book and began to page through it. The contents would appal and horrify most witches and wizards, and if the Ministry knew of its existence, they would likely wish to destroy it or to take it for themselves to keep in the Department of Mysteries. Spells, potions, Charmed devices..."cursed" would be a more appropriate description...and all laid out as matter-of-factly as if it were a book of household cleaning and maintenance charms. Almost all of them were Dark, and certainly all were capable of evil use, but they were fascinating and inventive, and most of them were new to Severus, or at least, they were unknown, occasionally older, variants of spells and potions he was acquainted with.

There was a small slip of parchment inserted about half-way through the book, pushed, whether through time or intent, tightly into the binding. Severus pulled it out and looked at it. The writing seemed faded with time, a pale brown, but the script was unmistakable. So, this had probably belonged to the Headmaster, or it had been something that he had used, at any rate.

Severus puzzled over the small piece of parchment. It was merely a list, it seemed. A few quite ordinary potions ingredients, mention of a marble pestle, something about a cloudless sky, and a note at the bottom that said, "variant of ff draught may counter eff of comp. scind. potion." Just beneath that note were a series of nine alchemical symbols, a triangle in the third, sixth, and ninth places. Fire. Severus puzzled over the symbols for a few minutes, then he decided that it was merely an Albus-doodle. The old wizard had often doodled during meetings or when thinking about a problem. It had been a rather irritating habit.

It looked as though at one time, Albus had attempted to discover an antidote to one of the potions in the book, probably very many years ago, and the notes on this list were something that he had made at that time.

Severus sighed. With so little information, it was impossible to tell precisely what Albus had meant by any of it, or what the formula for the final potion would have been. He wondered if Albus had been successful in creating the new potion, and whether there had been a practical purpose to his developing it, or if it had been a purely academic, intellectual exercise. And it didn't matter. Albus was gone. What he would seek from Albus if he were here was not anything that he could find in this book.

What he could find in this book . . . Severus leafed through the pages for a few more minutes. Although many of the spells and potions were completely new to him, and some relatively innocuous in themselves, though they could be bent to evil purpose, Severus saw nothing that was truly unknown. All manner of death, disfigurement, torture, illusion, concealment, revenge, enslavement . . . and here was another slip of paper, this a bit of Muggle paper, not parchment, but still in Albus's hand, this ink, still blue and unfaded. Severus felt a lump in his throat as he looked at the writing and began to understand its meaning.

"Enslav & bonding charms, diff to break, partic when bonded willingly submits and when bond is magico-corporeal. Bonding only through a cursed obj alone can be broken by breaking curse on obj. Much more diffic when obj is the person's body. Curse and bond through branding of corpus hardest of all to break. Potions alone never effective. Only capture & use of bonder has allowed breaking of that bond in past. Success seems to require or cause death of master. Death of the branded one is usual result of all other attempts to break bond. Experiments pose great risk. Possibility: if brand is on limb, not torso, amputation? Might mark relocate? Magic may remain even if mark does not.

"Can I free him before R returns? If not "

Albus's note ended there, hanging in mid-sentence. During that time when his Dark Mark had been scarcely a shadow, almost entirely invisible to the eye, Albus had been looking for a way to eliminate the bond between himself and the Dark Lord, to free him before the Dark Lord's return. "R" was certain "Riddle." Albus had always called him "Tom" or "Riddle," though he had never shied from using the name "Voldemort" in public. He never used it when they were alone together, though, out of an abundance of caution. Severus himself was unsure how aware the Dark Lord was when others used his adopted name in the presence of someone bearing the Dark Mark...perhaps not at all...but it was a part of the terrifying mystique that had developed around him. Odd, actually, that anyone even remembered the name he had taken for himself, since no one but he ever used it.

Severus sighed, replaced Albus's note, and closed the book. Although it was an interesting, if somewhat gruesome, little volume, there was nothing in it that could help him, not in the time he had remaining. And he was prepared for his end, though it would have been satisfying if he could have taken the Dark Lord with him.

Severus stood to return the book to the shelf. He looked at it, its dark, aged leather warm in his hand. Such an innocuous thing, so small, and yet so filled with evil. Except . . . Severus opened the book again and drew out the second slip of paper. He bent and replaced the book on its shelf, then he folded the piece of paper and put it in his pocket. Just in time, it seemed. He heard Melina and Minerva coming back down from the Headmistress's suite.

"Ah, Severus! Finished with your research?" Minerva asked as he emerged from the library.

Severus nodded.

Melina looked at Severus and smiled slightly, then she said to her aunt, "I am going to go find Alroy and give him the news."

"And you can't stay for lunch?"

"No, I'm sorry. I have to get back. Good bye, Severus, it was good to see you again."

"Healer O'Donald," Severus said with a nod.

After Melina had left, Minerva sat down behind her desk. "Quiet morning," she remarked.

"Yes." He hesitated a moment, then he pulled out the scrap of paper. "I was looking through a book . . . the one that Crouch used to brew the potion. I found this."

Minerva raised one eyebrow. "And 'this' is?"

Severus slowly handed it to her.

Minerva read it. "Ah. I see." She took off her glasses and placed them on the desk, handing the paper back to Severus. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There was a period during which Albus did research in order to see whether he could discover some method to remove your Mark. He was very torn about it. Albus knew that you . . ." She sighed again. "He knew of your desire for vengeance against the Dark Lord and of your desire to make amends for your betrayal of the Potters. He also knew that when Riddle returned, you would be an invaluable resource as a spy. But Albus thought that if he could find such a method, he would offer it to you, and then, if you accepted and it was successful, he could help you to relocate to some other part of the world. I believe that he felt . . . uncomfortable even doing the research. He felt it was selfish of him to want to rid you of the Mark, and not in the best interest of the wizarding world, and perhaps not even in your best interest. In any event, he never was able to find any solution to the problem."

"I could have saved him the trouble. In fact, I did once tell him there was no way to be rid of the Mark," Severus said. "I am bound to him. He will always be able to find me, always be able to call me to him, always have his evil touch upon me."

"A year or two before Potter came to Hogwarts, Albus said that your Mark bound you not only to Riddle, but to him, indirectly," Minerva said sadly. "At the time, Albus worried that it was the only thing that did. You had such a difficult relationship with him at times...and for many reasons, on both your sides...but he cared for you very much. He also told me that he dreaded the prospect of sending you back to Riddle, and yet he would, despite what he knew could happen to you. And then the time came. Riddle did return, bringing death with him. And Albus sent you back, and you went. And every time you went, it wore him down a little bit more. I saw it happening, but there was nothing I could do, and Albus shared very little with me, thinking to protect me and, I think, to protect the friendship between the two of us. And now I send you, and each time you leave, I try to harden myself, knowing what you must do and what you must endure. I try to get used to it. Now I know that Albus never really managed to harden himself or become used to it. He simply endured it, as I do now."

Severus swallowed. "But he wanted me to kill him."

"We have discussed that before, Severus. Even though he was wrong, Albus truly believed it was for the best for everyone, and although I have no doubt that Potter would still have had his opportunity to defeat Riddle, I believe that the price would have been much higher, certainly for you, but also for me, and likely for the wizarding world, as well. And he did change his mind." Minerva smiled slightly and shook her head. "Albus is sorry, you know, that he ever asked such a thing of you. He believed that you would come to see that you had done him a mercy and had also served the wizarding world in doing so."

Severus snorted a brief laugh. "We never got to see whether that would have been the case, though. Perhaps it would have been better. Do you know you still speak of him sometimes as though he is still here?"

"I do?"

"You said, he is sorry, not that he was sorry," Severus said.

"I am sure that, wherever he is, Albus is sorry," Minerva replied. "Now, I have a few more things to do before lunch, so if there's nothing else? No? Then if you happen to see Alroy, would you ask him to send Miss Granger to me...unless you see her yourself, in which case, you can tell her instead. Otherwise, I will speak to her at lunch."

---

"So you understand, Miss Granger, no matter the time of day, no matter what you are doing or what you are wearing, you are to keep these with you," Minerva said.

They were meeting in the Headmistress's private study, which Hermione had only glimpsed through the doorway before. It was small, much smaller than her study had been as Head of Gryffindor House, but she also had a much larger office now, and the suite as a whole was larger.

Hermione nodded. "I understand, but what about, well, bathing?"

"The bag is charmed to be waterproof. Do not let it out of your sight or your possession. Sling it over your shoulder, fasten it around your waist, whatever is most convenient at the time. And don't carry it outside your clothing unless you must." Minerva looked her up and down. "It would probably be easiest if you made a habit of wearing your student robes over your regular clothing, regardless of what you are doing. For the moment, put it in your book bag, but don't let it out of your sight. And although I do approve in principle of your participation with Dumbledore's Army, I am concerned about the contents of the bag. The vial is charmed to be unbreakable, and the rest of your kit has similar charms on it, but such charms don't provide complete protection, as you know, particularly not from spell damage. Please be very cautious."

Hermione examined the contents of the bag again. It was cleverly constructed, less a bag than a wide belt with pouches sewn in, and each pouch precisely the size and shape required for each item and closing with Charmed, self-sealing flaps. Loops along the other side held a tourniquet. There was a single vial of clear liquid, which Minerva had explained was a potion that needed to be administered directly into the bloodstream as Melina had taught her to do. She had also hesitantly told Hermione that it was an antitoxin potion, a very specific antitoxin, but experimental.

Another small pouch contained the intravenous needle and syringe with which the antitoxin potion should be administered. They were charmed but looked much like something you might find in a Muggle hospital. If for some reason she couldn't inject the potion into the person's vein, she could use the completely magical method to transfer the contents of the vial into the patient's bloodstream. It had been a difficult charm to master, but Melina had been a patient teacher, even when Hermione had caused what appeared to be a painful bubble of fluid under her skin, and now Hermione found it quite easy to cast.

One very small pouch held a single Bezoar, though Minerva warned her that it was included only as an additional precaution and might very well be either ineffective or impossible to administer and not to be relied upon. The next pouch over was home to a squat brown jar of a sticky, muddy green potion that Minerva had called "Omnicoagulant Potion," which, applied externally, would help close even the most obstinate of cursed wounds.

"And what is this for again?" Hermione asked, pulling out a squeeze tube that looked quite Muggle to her.

"As I said, it is a potion to be applied externally, should the need arise." Minerva thought for a moment, considering what other information she could give her. "It is an anti-necrosis potion. If and when you need to use it, it will be obvious precisely how it should be used...provided, of course, that you possess the intelligence I believe you to have and you don't use it lightly and needlessly before then."

Hermione nodded. "This has something to do with Professor Snape, doesn't it?"

"As I say, you are an intelligent witch. If I could tell you all that it concerns, I would. It may be that the situation for which we are preparing you will never come to pass. Speak of this to no one but myself, Professor Crouch, or Melina. You will know when it is safe and appropriate to speak of it to anyone else, I am sure."

Hermione was not so certain herself, but she agreed. Whatever it was that the Headmistress was anticipating, she had entrusted her with an important responsibility, that much was obvious, and Hermione would not take it lightly.

"Remember, Hermione," Minerva said, "the most important thing is the Prospirator Spell. Even if you lose the potions or cannot administer them, the Prospirator is key and may be sufficient, but the potions would never suffice. Dum spiro, spero."

"I remember. Melina told me the same thing, and it is rather obvious that if someone can't breathe, they will die," Hermione replied.

"We are going to be late for lunch. Do you have any other questions?"

"Only ones that you probably can't answer," Hermione replied, "but if I think of any later, I'll come see you."

---

Minerva entered the Great Hall to see that almost everyone was there already. She glanced over at Alroy and caught his eye. He gave her a broad grin. No doubt he would want to go see his father, but if he went, it would have to be a very brief visit. Despite the intelligence Severus had provided, Minerva knew that Riddle could change his mind and attack sooner, or even simply try a weak feint, and there was always the possibility that he mistrusted Severus and his suspicions were causing him to give Severus false information.

There was an additional person at the staff table, sitting beside Hooch, her face turned so that Minerva could not see anything but long, very straight, very black hair. Hooch caught sight of Minerva, smiled, and said something to her companion, who turned and looked toward Minerva, smiling warmly. Minerva almost stumbled over nothing. The petite witch seemed to exude vibrancy, but more than that, she was stunning, with high cheekbones, glossy hair, full lips, and a glowing complexion that was more coppery than olive. As Minerva drew closer to the table, she saw startlingly bright blue eyes. This must be Krum's fiancee. It must be quite a contrast to see the two of them together, she thought.

Hooch had mentioned bringing the witch to see Hogwarts, but she had not cleared it with Minerva, which rather irked the Headmistress. Nonetheless, Minerva put a smile on her face and stopped beside the other two witches.

"Minerva, I would like you to meet Helena Benetti," Rolanda said. "Helena, this is Professor McGonagall, whom I told you about."

Benetti held out her hand. "Very pleased to meet you, Headmistress. I do hope that my presence is not an inconvenience."

Minerva's smile became less forced. "There is always enough for a guest. You are quite welcome."

"She is staying down at the Three Broomsticks," Rolanda explained. "I had been going to ask you during lunch about a tour for her later today, but when I got her owl saying she had arrived, I went down and fetched her."

"I could have lunched in town," Helena began.

"Nonsense," Minerva replied, cutting her off. "I have heard a great deal about you...although I must admit to not following the international Quidditch teams...and it is good to meet you." Minerva gave Rolanda a quick look that clearly informed the Flying teacher that they would be having a conversation later about unvetted guests.

"Helena has agreed to do a demonstration for some of our Quidditch players," Rolanda said. "I thought that after the tour, we could take some sixth- and seventh-year players out to the pitch and we could do a little practice with them. Others would be welcome to come and watch, of course."

Minerva hesitated. This seemed to be Rolanda's way of not only acquainting Benetti with the Hogwarts grounds in case she participated in its defence, but also to get some of the older students out and flying together. They couldn't practise spell-casting from their brooms, but perhaps there were other things they could do that Hooch thought would be useful. Minerva was uncomfortable about including the sixth-years, since many were not yet of-age, but segregating them that way might appear odd.

"Very well," Minerva said with a nod. "And afterward, why don't we have tea? My office?"

It sounded like a suggestion, or perhaps a request, but Hooch took it for the order it was.

"That would be fine. Four o'clock in your office," Rolanda agreed.

"Oh, afternoon tea! I do enjoy that custom," Helena said with a bright smile. "It always feels very civilised. It always sounds much nicer than a coffee break does. And I adore scones."

Minerva smiled. "I will be sure we have scones, then."

"Not if it's any trouble," Helena said quickly. "I only meant that I enjoy them."

"It is no trouble at all. I am partial to them, myself," Minerva said, hoping that Benetti was truly as pleasant as she appeared to be. Even her accent was rather quaint.

"Thank you, Minerva," Rolanda said.

Minerva nodded. "Have a good afternoon. It's nice weather for flying."

"You should come out with us," Helena suggested with some enthusiasm.

"I am sure I would enjoy it, but unfortunately, my schedule won't permit it," Minerva replied. "I will see you both at four, though."

---

Neville nodded in greeting to Professor Crouch as he met him in the corridor. Without speaking, the two proceeded down the hall, where Neville stopped and began to pace. A peculiar thing it would have been to witness, had there been anyone else present to see.

The two wizards glanced at each other, then Neville reached out and opened a door that hadn't been evident before. He let the older wizard enter first, then followed him in after checking the corridor once more.

Crouch crossed the large room and looked at the peculiar, grey-clad, faceless figures gathered along one wall.

"These are your targets?" he asked softly.

Neville nodded. "The Room releases them when we are ready."

"Show me what you have been practising," Crouch said.

Neville stood in the centre of the room and drew his wand. "First one!"

One of the dummies stepped forward.

"Decapito!"

A bright red spell arced toward the figure and hit it. The faceless head flew off. A moment later, the dummy and its head vanished.

"Next!" Neville called out.

A new dummy stepped toward Neville and stopped.

"Exentero!"

A large rent appeared in the dummy's shapeless robe, and bloodless entrails spewed out. Just as before, the dummy disappeared. Neville stood ready for another target, and the Room apparently read his intent, because another walked out to stand in front of him.

"Frangere! Frangere! Frangere!" Neville cast three hexes in rapid succession, striking the dummy in its chest, its shoulder, and then its leg, causing it to fall to the floor. By now, the young wizard was sweating slightly.

The dummy vanished to be replaced by a new one that stood ready and waiting for Neville's hex.

"Massuelius!"

The dummy rocked as the curse hit it dead centre.

"That's enough," Robbie said as Neville raised his wand to cast another hex.

The Room obligingly removed the dummy. Neville watched somewhat nervously as his teacher paced the floor. Finally, Robbie stopped and turned to face the young wizard.

"Your control of the spells is impressive," Robbie said. "And there is no doubt that they are effective and that they would be powerful in a battle. You may have noticed that they do take a good deal of energy to cast, particularly the first two. Unless you are fighting only one or two opponents in a brief skirmish, those two would not be very good choices for your initial sally, and if you only had one or two opponents, killing them would quite likely be . . . overkill, if you will pardon the expression. In a battle with many potential opponents, it is important not to fatigue yourself too greatly at the start of it. Also," Robbie ended softly, "it is always preferable to avoid killing."

"But, sir..."

Robbie held up one hand, stopping Neville's protests. "I said it is preferable. It may be unavoidable, particularly if faced with a strong opponent. But it is important to remember that a strong opponent will also be difficult to kill. If you are strong enough, though, you may be able to avoid killing even a very powerful opponent. I do not say that you have done wrong in teaching these curses. On the contrary, these hexes may save some lives, but only at the expense of others."

"But they are Death Eaters," Neville protested.

"Yes, and to defend oneself or others and to prevent someone from killing, it may be excusable, and certainly defensible, to kill that person, but do not forget that you are killing a human being, Mr Longbottom, taking a life." Robbie looked him up and down. "I do not like to contemplate any of you becoming killers, and yet worse would be to have you die, slaughtered by those with no such compunctions. Still, as I said, those spells take a good deal of power to cast, particularly the Decapito, and I recommend reserving them for the moment when they are most needed and at a moment when your opponent is less guarded. Casting the powerful hexes repeatedly and to no avail will only do two things, warn your adversary that you present a greater threat than he...or she...believed, and tire you and weaken your own defences."

Neville contemplated that, and then he said, "I take your point. I'm glad you'll be here to tell everyone this, Professor."

"You may tell them yourself, Mr Longbottom. I will be here simply as a resource for you, although I will, as I promised, do some demonstrations and teach two additional shielding charms," Robbie said. "How well have the others mastered the spells?"

"The Decapito and the Exentero were the most difficult, though everyone has managed to cast them at least once. I thought it was only because they are sort of disgusting, but it's probably what you say about how much energy it takes to cast them." Neville looked over at the dummies. "And these things don't fight back. They aren't even alive. I thought I was doing a good thing with this." He sounded discouraged.

"You are doing a good thing, Neville. Even if almost none of them ever use either of those curses, they are aware of them and of their possibilities for use in battle against them. And what of the Massuelius and Frangere?"

"They did better with those, but they didn't always do very much damage." Neville looked over at the dummies again. "But I suppose that any damage from either of those might hurt a real person enough to incapacitate them."

"Indeed," Robbie said. "I think that you and your group should concentrate on those two. If someone has a preference, one spell that is easier than the other for them to cast, let them practise only that one. Better to be excellent at one than mediocre at many. And for you . . . one more demonstration, I think, to drive home the point in a practical manner."

"Which point is that, sir?"

"The one regarding the energy required to cast such destructive hexes at a living, breathing wizard, and one who is defending himself," Robbie clarified. "And despite my confidence in my ability to shield against any of them, as I do not wish to lose my head, I suggest you cast the Exentero."

Neville blanched. "But, sir..."

"As I said, Mr Longbottom, I shall shield against it. And if you do get through, it is unlikely to do grave damage, and even then, we are at Hogwarts and Madam Pomfrey could probably put me back together again before it could kill me," Robbie said mildly.

Neville stood looking at him, opening and closing his mouth for a moment. Robbie had his wand out.

"Mr Longbottom? The others will arrive soon."

Neville raised his wand, swallowed, and cast the Exentero. Robbie flicked his wand slightly and the beam of orange spell-light dissipated then vanished.

"Come now, Neville, you can do better than that! Even if it had hit me, I doubt it would have penetrated my robes. Again!"

Neville screwed up his courage and raised his wand again. "Exentero!"

Robbie smiled slightly as he cast a nonverbal shielding charm.

"Better, Mr Longbottom, much better. Now, cast repeatedly."

Neville did as he requested, casting several Exentero spells in succession, slowing toward the end as he tired, and Robbie's shield held for all of them.

"You see now what I was saying?" Robbie asked as Neville wearily dropped his arm and ceased casting. "Of course, in battle, things would proceed rather differently. Your opponent would not only shield himself, but would be attacking you. Reserve your strongest offensive for when it can best be effective. Stunners and Petrifying spells are sufficiently difficult and tiring to cast...though not as much so as these others, obviously...and used in combination with Body Binds and rope spells, they can also incapacitate. Again, I do not say never to use the Decapito or Exentero, but use them strategically and only when you must, when your opponent invites that kind of force. As for Massuelius and Frangere, they are quite useful spells for disabling an opponent, even when not cast with lethal force and aim." A spasm of pain or sadness seemed to cross Robbie's face. "I do hope none of you children will be required to kill," he added softly.

"I am of-age, not a child," Neville said.

Robbie took in a deep breath and let it out. "Yes, of course you are." He smiled. "And what were your other plans for this evening?"

Neville told him about Dean's idea for paintball, and Robbie chuckled, finding it very clever.

"Muggle-borns often have some of the very best ideas," he said brightly, "and those who have spent time in the Muggle world. When this is over, my boy, spend some time in it, open yourself up, learn from them."

The others began to trickle in a few minutes later. When everyone was assembled, Neville carefully and methodically explained what he had learned from Professor Crouch and told them of their new strategy for using the new hexes and how they would begin to practise mainly the Massuelius and Frangere, each person concentrating on whichever of them they preferred. When Neville had finished speaking, Robbie stepped forward from the shadows where he had been listening and allowing Neville to conduct the meeting as he saw fit.

"I understand that you are all looking forward to a game of paintball this evening..." He chuckled when he saw some of the expressions on the younger students' faces, ranging from confusion to excitement. "I believe I have spoiled the surprise...and no, Miss Jackson, I shall not explain what 'paintball' is. I will leave that to Mr Longbottom and Mr Thomas. I am here to demonstrate the Protego connex and to teach two new shield charms. The first should be relatively easy for you all to learn, since you know the base charm, although it is not a particularly powerful or reliable spell. It can be cast quickly, however, and takes little energy. The second is more difficult to cast, but it is a naturally powerful spell that requires relatively little energy to cast in proportion to its effectiveness. Best yet, it is almost unknown in Britain, so it will be a little surprise for any opponents."

A hand went up in the back.

"Yes, Mr . . ." Robbie craned to see the boy whose hand was raised. "Mr Brett. You have a question?"

"Yes, sir." The straight-backed, fifth-year Ravenclaw stepped forward. "Why don't we learn these two spells in our lessons?"

"The first one is not a part of the standard lessons because it is not tested on the OWLs or the NEWTs, and it is not on the examinations because at some point in the past, the Ministry Examiners decided to eliminate it. I believe there was some thought that it was too simple or ineffective, and it is not a conventional defensive spell. The second one . . . it is an old spell from another part of the world. It is not a part of the British wizarding tradition."

"But now, Professor," Jamie Brett persisted. "You could teach them in class now."

Robbie smiled mildly. "You are correct. I could teach them in class now. However, this evening, I am teaching them to you here. Is that acceptable, Mr Brett?"

Jamie flushed but nodded.

"Then we shall begin, with everyone's permission?" Robbie looked around, and there were no objections or questions. "First, Repello cantamen. It is a basic repelling spell, but unlike most you have learned, it repels a cast spell rather than a physical object. Miss Abbot, assist me."

Hannah stepped forward.

"Cast a spell...a Stinger, perhaps, and I will demonstrate Repello cantamen."

Hannah dutifully cast a Stinging Hex, and Robbie cast the Repello, emphasising the pronunciation.

"You see that the wand movement is identical to that in the other Repello spells. You must simply have the intent to repel the spell coming toward you. Because of that, the one difficulty with this method of defence is that you must know what spell is being cast and be able to cast it yourself. If Miss Abbot had decided to cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx instead and had done so nonverbally, my spell would have been ineffective."

Everyone paired off and practised the Repello for several minutes. Some of them found it difficult at first, and were hit by mild Stinging Hexes, but they all caught on.

"Good, very good," Robbie said as they all stopped and turned toward him. "Just practise using a variety of other non-injurious spells. And now, I will demonstrate the other spell. It is quite strong. Almost any spell will be stopped, even very Dark spells. One that it will not stop is the Avada Kedavra. No one has ever developed a spell that will shield against that, although there have, of course, been instances in which someone was protected against it by something else."

"Like Harry," Celia Jackson said.

"Yes, like Mr Potter," Robbie agreed. "Parlakkalkan. That is the shield spell."

"That's Turkish!" Lawrence Bain blushed when everyone turned and looked at him. "Well, I think it is," he mumbled.

"You are correct, Mr Bain," Robbie said with a smile. "And do you know what it means?"

Lawrence blushed more darkly and shook his head. "My cousins are Turkish. My aunt's husband is Turkish. I just hear it; I don't really understand it. But, um, I think 'parlak' is something good, like, sharp, or bright, maybe?"

Robbie smiled and nodded. "It can mean different things in modern spoken Turkish, including 'bright.' In this spell, 'parlak' is 'brilliantly radiant,' more or less. I am unsurprised you do not recognise 'kalkan' at all. That simply means 'shield.'"

"And we're learning a Turkish spell?" Ernie MacMillan asked, trying to sound polite but not succeeding.

"It is a spell like any other that you learn here at Hogwarts. How many spells do you learn that sound like English?"

"The one you just demonstrated," Ernie said. "Repello is like 'repel.'"

"Only because both the spell and the word come from the same Latin roots. Do you forget what you were taught your very first year in all of your practical classes? It is intent that matters. The incantation, no matter how powerful, can only assist you in channelling the intent. That is why you are able to cast a spell nonverbally, even those that ordinarily have an incantation."

"But language is powerful," Jamie said softly, almost to himself.

"Oh, yes, language is, indeed, powerful, and there are entire volumes written on the magical power of language, both as language and as pure sound, but that is a study of many years, not a lesson for one evening. If you are interested in it, I am sure that you can find many volumes that will provide you fascinating hours of reading. I recommend those by Merwyn McGonagall, in particular."

"McGon..."

"Our Headmistress's late father, yes," Robbie said, enjoying the tangents but feeling pressed for time. "Now, for the demonstration of Parlakkalkan. Let us begin. Miss Granger, will you assist me? Cast any spell you wish, verbally or nonverbally...other than the obvious Unforgivables or similar spells...and I shall block."

Hermione stepped up, pointed her wand, and cast a nonverbal spell. Robbie cast the Parlakkalkan verbally.

Hermione stepped back and there was a chorus of gasps. Hermione's spell seemed to meet some invisible force, and there was a shower of light as it was blocked.

"Very nice, Miss Granger. A Stupefy, correct? A few more times, but cast more strongly," Robbie said.

Hermione cast a strong, verbal Frangere, and this one exploded in a shower of white light.

"A little flamboyant, for a defensive spell, but very pretty at night," Robbie commented.

She followed another Frangere with a Massuelius and a Petrificus Totalus, then she paused, smiled slightly, and tried a nonverbal Cheering Charm.

After that one was repelled, accompanied by a shower of turquoise and pink light, Robbie smiled and said, "I almost wish I had let that one through, Miss Granger. A Cheering Charm might have been rather nice!"

Hermione laughed.

Robbie paused, looking at Neville. "I believe it has become too late tonight for a demonstration of the Protego connex, and perhaps Mr Brett has a point. I shall consider demonstrating it to a wider audience. We shall see."

Robbie turned the meeting back over to Neville, and he pulled Hermione aside.

"You might enjoy paintball, Miss Granger, but perhaps it might be safer for your package if you do not participate this evening," he said softly. "I can provide you with an excuse to leave, if you wish."

Hermione hesitated, then nodded.

Dean was in the midst of explaining the principles of paintball, and Robbie leaned over and whispered something in Neville's ear. Neville looked slightly surprised, but nodded.

"Come along, my dear," Robbie said, leading Hermione to the door. "I believe it is time for you and me to discuss wand theory and . . . a few other issues, hmm?"

---

"Did you have a good evening?" Minerva asked.

"Quite." Robbie put his arms around her from behind, looking over her head out the window.

"And your discussion with Hermione?" Minerva asked, leaning back.

"Also satisfactory. I believe that she will be able to explain what she must to Harry when the time is right."

"From what Severus told me, it sounds as though Harry has already come to the correct conclusion about what happened when Riddle failed to kill him the first time."

"That should make it much easier," Robbie said, then, distracted, he added, "Is that . . . Aurora Sinistra and Firenze?"

"Yes, it is, again." She glanced back up at him. "Almost every night now. She brings out a telescope, he joins her, they talk. She looks through the telescope much less than she talks, and less each night. I don't know as she uses the Astronomy Tower at all now, except for teaching."

"It is good that Firenze has found a friend. It has been very isolating for him here, cut off from his herd, from people who understand him."

"From Aurora's behaviour, I think she feels something more than friendship for him," Minerva said.

Robbie was silent for a moment, and then he said, "If that is so, it saddens me. Centaurs do not view humans in that way, not even Firenze, for all his liberal notions. Any kind of . . . relationship would not be possible between them. He could never return any romantic feelings she might have for him."

"Personally, I find it puzzling," Minerva said. "I know Firenze is a person, sentient, and so forth, and I like him, but I don't see how . . . I mean, physically . . . Perhaps I am reading too much into it. I hope so, for Aurora's sake, if what you say is true. And I don't think I've ever heard of a human-centaur, um, mating."

"Centuries ago, it used to happen occasionally, but even then, it would be brief, not what you would characterise as a relationship." Robbie paused, his attention on the two teachers. "On the other hand, I have been known to be wrong on occasion."

Firenze had put an arm around Aurora, and she leaned against him, then he nuzzled her hair.

Minerva turned. "Time for us to leave them with their stars, I believe," she said softly.

"And us to our dreams, hmm?"

"To our dreams."

---

Note: Flick knives, also known as "switchblades," are often illegal to carry, or even to possess, in many countries, including the U.K., Australia, Canada, and parts of the United States. So I don't recommend emulating Gareth and Severus and trying to obtain one! Severus will be breaking Muggle laws carrying a flick knife in England and Scotland, but I doubt that is high on his list of concerns.

I recently posted to my blog and LJ a list of some of the noncanon spells in Death's Dominion. There's a link to my blog on my author's page.

And since I haven't said it recently, please do not take any of my stories as an infallible source for information about the real world, whether scientific, cultural, social, linguistic, literary, medical, veterinary, or otherwise! ;-)