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Chapter Text

In the heart of Scotland was a castle, a fortress meant for the magic of learning and the learning of magic.

In the bowels of this castle was a hall, lit by a thousand floating candles and a ceiling that sparkled with stars.

At the head of this hall was a man. He was known for his kind nature, for his joyfully twinkling eyes, for his fairness and flamboyance and formidable power. But today, he wore only black and was bent with age. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore, and he was the headmaster of this school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The children of Hogwarts were gathered before him, waiting to hear his words.

"I am sorry to inform you all," he said in a faltering voice, "that over the Easter holidays, a student was taken from her home by the organization calling itself the Death Eaters. She, along with her family, are believed to have been - been murdered."

On one side of the hall was a Gryffindor with glasses and artfully mussed hair, who came of age a week ago. He half-stood up and started looking around frantically.

"Although she was taken while outside the school, she was still a child of Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued. "I want to remind each and every one of you that you are safe here. Should you desire sanctuary here over the holidays, you need only ask -"

"Lily!" the boy screamed. "Lily, where are you?"

"Mr. Potter," the headmaster said, and seemed to crumple a little. "James... I'm sorry. It was Lily Evans who was..."

On the other side of the hall was a Slytherin student. His hair was dark and greasy and his eyes were dark and cruel. His face twitched in what might have been a smirk at the headmaster's clumsy words. James noticed this, and the way none of the Slytherins showed surprise, and assumed -

"You!" he yelled, and raised his wand. Black teeth sprouted from the ground in a line, working their way across the Great Hall. "Snape! It was you, I know it was you -"

Snape jumped on the table and raised a shield, face expressionless once more. Between them, children started screaming as the teeth fastened onto their feet.

Two of the boys sitting near James jumped up and grabbed their friend's arms, hoisting him out of the room, while his third friend sat with an indifference to match Severus Snape's. Some of the staff of Hogwarts whipped out their wands to cancel the curse. The rest of the students scrambled out of the way.

In the commotion, only one person noticed Severus slip out of the room to lock himself in a closet and cry.

Chapter Text

April 3, 1978, First-floor Corridor, Hogwarts:

Regulus was running through the hallways. Weren't there rules about running in the hallways? But Snape had left in the middle of the big announcement, and Regulus knew why. He skidded to a stop before the painting of blackbirds and pounded on its frame.

"Snape! You in there?" Regulus shouted. "I know you're in there! Come out, I -"

The painting swung from the wall by a crack. Then a hand grabbed Regulus by the robes and yanked him into the hidden closet.

Regulus saw Snape's face. There were tears on the face. There was also a dark brown wand pointed at his own face.

"Before I Obliviate you," Snape said in a creepy, calm voice, "I'm going to need to know how you found me."

Regulus crossed his eyes to stare at the wand. "Didn't you lose that wand?"

Snape's face flickered with confusion. "No... I only said I did, so I could get a second one, remember? You did the same thing."

"Did I?" Regulus asked. "I wasn't aware." Internally, he was debating. He couldn't tell Snape - it had to remain secret. But Snape was sad, and that made Regulus sad, so - maybe telling him would make things better? And his secret was sitting in his chest, heavy and bright as the sun, and he needed to tell it to someone soon before it burned him alive.

Regulus had an idea for a compromise.

"I guess you're sad about Lily dying?" he asked, and realized his secret was buoying up his own emotions, making him sound merry. He schooled his voice into something approaching sympathy. "You hid here after your argument with her last year. I thought, when you ran off after the announcement, you might come here again." Then he got sidetracked. "How did you know what happened to her? You weren't there."

Immediately Snape's walnut wand was digging into his neck and his face was about three inches away. Regulus wanted to move his own face away, but something in Snape's stony gaze kept him stock-still.

"And you... were there?" he breathed.

Regulus realized his mistake. "I - I didn't hurt her, I swear!" he squeaked.

Snape's black eyes bored into his. Abruptly, he removed his wand and muttered, "Muffliato." Then, businesslike, he asked, "What was it like? I mean, how did it... how did it happen?"

"Well..." Regulus' heart was still racing like a frightened rabbit, and he couldn't remember a thing about Lily's death. "It was quick," he lied.

Snape was still staring at him as if his eyes were the most fascinating things in the world. Whatever he saw seemed to convince him of Regulus' honesty, at least, and he nodded.

"I got her body out," Regulus blurted.

Snape froze. "What?"

---

What? What? What?

Severus didn't realize he had said the word until he heard its echo.

"And I buried it," Regulus continued, seeming oblivious to how sunlight had spilled into the hidden closet and melted something cold and hard in his heart. "By this little pond I used to take walks by. I - I hope that's okay?"

It took Severus a second to realize that Regulus was waiting for his response. His approval.

"That's... that's great," he stuttered. "I..."

"It's okay," Regulus said reassuringly. "I won't tell anyone you care."

"I..." How comforting to hear that from such a blabbermouth. "No, you won't," Severus confirmed, and pointed his wand back into Regulus' face.

"What-" Regulus sputtered, indignant. "You don't have to Obliviate me!"

Incredibly, Severus felt mirth enough to snort. "You just shouted to everyone in the hallway that you 'know I'm in here,' blurted out that you snuck the body of one of our Lord's victims out from under his nose, something he'd cheerfully kill you for, and let slip the fact that you don't remember things you did two weeks ago. What did you expect me to do?" Then, since Regulus still didn't seem to get it, he added, "How do I know you won't let what you've learned about me slip to someone else?"

"I don't want you Obliviating me!" Regulus shouted, drawing his own wand. He should have drawn that long ago, Severus thought with amusement, as he easily twisted the stick of hawthorn out of Regulus' hand. Or, if he had any sense, he wouldn't have come looking for me in the first place.

"If you Obliviate me, you'll regret it!" Regulus declared, and Severus saw fear on his face. "I have artefacts and such that will protect me from you!"

Severus pushed magic through his eyes, locked his gaze with Regulus', and tried once more to touch his thoughts. He failed, again. Regulus' mind was... there were no words to describe it but sticky. Hot fear melted into Severus' own mind, and behind it was pride and joy - perhaps that came from rescuing Lily's corpse. But he couldn't find the memories those emotions came from, so he had no idea whether Regulus was lying - about the artefacts or Lily.

(Not that Severus disbelieved him about Lily. It had seemed impossible, when he first heard of her demise, that his faerie girl had met her end in death and darkness, terrified in a cold manor. The last few days had been a nightmare of believing it to be true - but how could it be true? Even if Lily had - gone - it was only right that her story should end in a place of peace.)

"Do you really?" Severus asked skeptically.

"Do you wanna find out what they'll do?" Regulus asked defiantly, still reaching for his own wand. Severus held it behind his back.

On the one hand, Regulus was almost certainly bluffing. On the other hand, the Blacks were an old dark family, and if Regulus really had defensive artefacts, they were sure to be nasty. Plus, Severus didn't know if he had the skills to Obliviate Regulus without damaging him. Plenty of people would notice if the last of the Blacks started drooling, and some might be upset enough to bother tracing it back to him.

"...Okay," Severus conceded. "Fine. If you put yourself under a Geas, and tell me how you snuck her out, I won't Obliviate you." A Geas would keep Regulus from accidently spilling his secrets. If Regulus intentionally broke his oath, it wouldn't kill him, but it would put him in the hospital for a few days.

Regulus huffed and held up his wand hand. "I, Regulus Arcturus Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, do swear on my honor as a Black and a wizard to never disclose the secrets of Severus Tobias Snape, the first and founder of the House of Snape. May magic hold me to my oath on pain of pain."

There was no fancy light show to accompany such an informal oath, but Severus felt white magic whip through his chest like wind.

"Good," he said. "I declare the knowledge of this location, and anything you have learned about me through this conversation, and anything you might guess about my motivations, to be among my secrets. Now. How in Merlin's name did you get her out?"

"I... I..." Regulus was looking nervous again.

"Spit it out," Severus snapped.

"I... I don't remember..."

Chapter Text

April 3, 1978, Seventh-Year Boys' Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts:

"Let go of me!"

"Come on, James -" Remus grunted as James' flailing elbow caught him in the stomach.

"Let go of me! Didn't you see his face?"

"Yeah," Remus coughed, "I did, and he -"

"He did it!" James shrieked. "He did it, I know he did it -"

"I don't think he did, James -"

James managed to slip his shoulder out of Remus' grip. He darted for the door only to be hauled back by Sirius.

"Let me out!" he yelled. "I want to -"

"You want to what, kill him?" Remus said bluntly.

James' mouth shut with an audible clop. Remus and Sirius took the opportunity to force James to sit on his bed.

"James," Remus said, gentling his voice, "why do you think Severus was involved?"

"He -" James spluttered. "I just know! I just know -"

"Did you see him somewhere?" Remus continued, carefully projecting calm through his tone. "Was it his expression?"

"I - you saw him too!" James wailed. "He wasn't surprised at all and he smirked at me!"

"I did not see him smirk," Remus told him patiently.

"You were too far away!

"You were just as far away as me," Remus countered. "And besides, I think your vision is pretty terrible today, Four Eyes." He tapped the frame of James' old glasses. They were from a few years ago and didn't work for him anymore.

James sniffled, and Remus realized his mistake.

Sirius, in their fourth year, had asked Mary MacDonald to the school dance. James had been less than impressed with his friend's choice and made fun of Mary's hair. Remus could still hear Lily shouting, "Oh, Mary's ugly? Well, you're not that pretty either, Four Eyes!" as if it had been yesterday instead of two years ago.

James was crying in thick, ugly sobs, and still trying to talk through his tears. "I wanna - I wanna -"

Sirius stood, dropped to all fours, and transformed. The big black dog licked James' hand and whined. Remus slung his arm around James' shoulders, awkwardly pretending he didn't see his friend's face, as the dog buried his nose in James' lap.

Eventually, James calmed down enough to say, "I wanna fight them. I wanna fight the people who did this."

Sirius snarled agreement.

Remus knew that a bunch of angry eighteen-year-olds would be allowed to fight exactly no one. He also knew that his friends were not in the mood to hear it.

"Why don't I ask Professor Dumbledore if there's anything we can do?" he suggested. Maybe the Headmaster would come up with something James could do to feel helpful. It would go a long way to helping him get through his grief.

Two heads - one human, one canine - nodded fiercely.

"I'll ask about Snape while I'm there," Remus told them. "After all, it's just possible the Headmaster knows something we don't."

"Can you - can you - can you tell him what I saw?" James asked. "About how Snape was -"

"Yeah, I'll tell him," Remus agreed. "He'll probably know what's going on, yeah?"

James nodded, absently petting Sirius. "Can you go - go ask him now?" he said timidly.

Remus blinked; then he understood. James wanted to be alone for a while.

"Yeah, I'll - I'll go see if he's around."

As he slipped out the dormitory door, he saw James slide onto the floor and bury his face in Sirius' black fur.

Chapter Text

April 3, 1978, Headmaster's Office, West Tower, Hogwarts:

At the top of the westmost tower of Hogwarts was nestled an office, as rounded and warm as a phoenix's egg. It was stuffed with spindle-legged tables, upon which sat delicate silver instruments that twirled and chimed, occasionally outputting puffs of smoke. The circular wall was covered with portraits of the dead and the cantankerous. Behind a massive, claw-footed desk sat Albus Dumbledore, waiting and watching his office door.

(Well, mostly watching his office door. Old Basil Fronsac, in his overlarge portrait, was sleeping with his feet on his desk again, and his chair was teetering backwards in the most worrisome way.)

Crumpled in Albus' hands was a missive that read: Your office, 1:00 p.m., don't be late. We need to talk about Lily Evans. It was followed by the half an outline of a crown that had come to hold so much hope for him. He was excited to meet the one he called the Half-Crown; no other wizard had given him so much information about Voldemort's plans.

The door banged open dramatically, smashing into Basil's painting and sending him falling backwards. In strode -

In strode one of his own students, Severus Snape. In strode one of his seventh-year Slytherins, who might not even be overage yet, who was far too young to fight in a war.

"I need a list of everyone who knew Lily was involved with the Order."

This was not what Albus had expected.

Basil was muttering crabbily about lack of respect for the very, very old. The child turned and shot a spell - a spell that Albus didn't recognize! - at the portrait, and his voice faded to muted buzzing.

"Why?" Albus asked.

"Because Lily's -" the boy faltered for a fleeting second. "It wasn't just a random attack. One of the reasons they chose her was because they knew she was involved."

Oh dear.

It seemed he had made a massive mistake.

"And you think that one of the Order betrayed her?" Albus asked. "It seems more likely that one of her friends let a careless word slip. You know that some of your fellow students have Death Eaters in the family -"

"Mulciber kept bragging about his source. And I don't think it was the one I... took care of; that one was Lestrange's."

"Michael's father?" Albus asked, his heart sinking. "Isn't he quite skilled with the Imperius curse?" He would trust many of the Order to hold out under torture, but against the Imperius he trusted not even himself.

The child looked taken aback. "You would be correct," he said. Then he smiled sharply, showing yellow, scraggly teeth. "I don't think he used it here, though. He also said that they were 'one of Dumble's most trusted,' but of course, he might have been exaggerating. Which is why I need that list."

How to break it to him - no, those weren't the words. How to confess to his misjudgment?

"I don't know if I can give such a list to you," he temporized.

"Why not," the boy said flatly.

"I can't give you so much information about so many of my Order's members -"

"What do you mean by that." He took a breath. "How many people did you tell, that she was involved."

Albus stared down at his hands, not quite able to look his student in the eyes.

"HOW MANY?" the child yelled. "What did you do, tell your ENTIRE LITTLE GROUP?"

"I didn't think -"

"No," he said. His voice had reverted to its eerie calm. "You didn't think, and now she's dead because of it."

Albus drew breath to apologize, but his student screamed a curse, and then

there was

pain

and

hurt

and

---

"Professor Dumbledore, sir! Are you alright?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Seriously? What are you doing, casting an Unforgivable at the Headmaster?"

Albus sat up. Had he fallen on the floor? How clumsy of him.

"Oh, good, you're alright," said Remus Lupin - when did he get here? "He was holding you under the Cruciatus, sir. I think it was only for twenty seconds or so."

The Cruciatus? Really? He wasn't even sore.

Young Remus was holding the Snape boy against the wall, wand at his throat. "What do you want to do with him?" he asked.

"You need me." Snape didn't even look fazed by the wand at his neck, or by the fact that he'd just earned himself a life sentence in Azkaban.

"We do," Albus said reluctantly, because they did.

Albus hoisted himself back into his chair. He really was alright, which felt wrong. The Cruciatus Curse caused pure pain without damage to the victim's body. If Albus didn't remember that pain, he never would've known that he'd been cursed. He looked Remus over, worriedly wondering if in the tussle, he'd been hurt too.

He realized his mistake when a cruel light entered Snape's black eyes.

"It seems the relationship between us is too strained for me to report directly to you," he said, delight in his voice. "To save me telling someone else about this whole business, I suggest I report to Lupin instead."

Albus heard his real message, sharp and clear as shattered glass: I want to hurt you, so I will hurt someone you love.

"Of course if you won't let him be involved, I'll have to Obliviate him. Wouldn't want to end up like Evans, would I?"

Snape might be in seventh year and might not yet be more than seventeen, but Albus understood what it meant, that he could cast a Cruciatus Curse.

"Okay," said Remus. No, Albus wanted to protest, but he knew that would only fuel the child's cruelty.

Snape smirked. "I look forward to our meetings, Lupin," he said, and swept out the door. Basil's portrait buzzed furiously after him.

---

At the top of the westernmost tower of Hogwarts, in an office as round as a phoenix's egg, a spindly silver triangle, revolving about its axis, slowed and stopped and sang a single note. Neither the young boy nor the old man within noticed.

"Are you sure you're alright, sir?" Remus asked again.

Professor Dumbledore smiled gently over his glasses. "I am quite well. Did he hurt you?"

"No," Remus said. "He did try a Levicorpus, but that was all."

"I am relieved," said Professor Dumbledore.

Behind him, Basil was still buzzing like a hornet over the instruments' gentle chimes.

"...Are you going to punish him at all?" Remus asked tentatively.

"For what he did to me? No." He adjusted his glasses. "Like he said, we need him. And I..." The Headmaster's face seemed to age years within a second. "I made quite a terrible mistake."

"Yeah, I heard that part." And as much as Remus wanted to remove that awful guilt from his face, to tell Professor Dumbledore that it wasn't his fault, it kind of was. The Headmaster was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix; he was responsible for figuring out what could go wrong before it happened. An Imperiused spy should have been the first thing to occur to him.

"Professor?" he asked instead.

"Yes, Mr. Lupin?"

"He cast something that would land him in Azkaban for life," he said. "I think - maybe he doesn't care if he lives or dies."

"Himself or anyone else, it seems," Professor Dumbledore said sadly. "Save, perhaps, his former master."

"I really have to take his reports, you know," Remus said. "My memory is terrible enough without being Obliviated too."

"And I doubt he would do it well," Professor Dumbledore said, his voice full of warning. "I doubt he would do it carefully." He sighed. "Do you know what is required to cast a Cruciatus, Remus?"

"Er - magical strength?"

"Well, yes, that," the Headmaster said, "but also the genuine desire to hurt people... The Cruciatus Curse is Unforgivable, and casting it earns you a life sentence in Azkaban, not because it of all curses causes the most pain - victims of the Maledictus curse suffer for years - but because it is fueled by hatred. It cannot be cast because the caster feels their victim deserves it, or needs to be warned off, or needs to be incapacitated before they hurt someone else. The caster must have a genuine desire for suffering, so if someone is caught using it, there can be no pretense of misunderstanding."

Remus digested this.

"What I mean to say is this," said Professor Dumbledore. "I think he wants to hurt you. He is not an ill child to be nursed back to health, sick with grief though he may be. He is someone who chooses to hurt people for his own enjoyment. I can hardly stop you from taking his reports, but please, please be careful, Remus."

Remus nodded.

"Thank you." Professor Dumbledore said, and then smiled ruefully. "So, what did you originally want to talk to me about?"

"Oh," Remus said, startled. He didn't actually know. "Do you mind if I take a bit to remember?"

"Of course not, Mr. Lupin."

It was a slightly awkward few minutes as Remus let his thoughts drift, hoping the reason he had come here would surface. The portrait behind him was still buzzing indignantly, and some of the other paintings were fake-snoring with impressive volume. A silver heptagon to his left flashed between a distracting green and a lurid purple, letting out a strange vroop - vroop - vroop. It was the sort of thing James would make -

Oh, that was right, he was here for James! And Sirius, sort of. They were upset about what happened. Memories came tumbling back into his brain.

"Sorry, I've got it now," he said. "Do you have any ideas for how James and Sirius can contribute to the Order? I'm worried they'll start stalking Severus or something if they can't feel like they're helping."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "You're probably correct. Hm... Ah, yes. As you've probably guessed, some of our students have Death Eaters in their families. We have to have someone to figure out which of those students are in danger, or might be forced to follow their parents' footsteps against their will. We need to prevent Voldemort from gaining young, new recruits."

"Brilliant, sir!" And it was. This assignment would finally get James and Sirius to start thinking from a young Slytherin's perspective - something Remus had been trying to get them to do for years.

"And maybe..." Professor Dumbledore smirked. "Maybe, if they can come up with a way to make the rest of the school laugh - the entire rest of the school, mind, they can't pick on any one student - I can turn a blind eye to broken rules."

Remus nodded. "I'll see if James feels like it, sir. And Peter. He's been pretty distant today."

"Has Mr. Pettigrew not told you?" the Headmaster said, surprised.

"Told me what?"

"Never mind," Professor Dumbledore decided. "I think he should tell you himself, when he is ready."

"Okay," Remus said. He knew better than to push at Peter's secrets. "Where do you think Severus and I should meet?" Snape hadn't actually told him when and where, if he remembered correctly.

The Headmaster thought for a moment, then lit up. "I know the perfect place!" he exclaimed. "I believe I can set the room to throw him out if he attempts to harm you. And it's completely private, even Unplottable, and it's impossible to be eavesdropped on in there."

Remus was skeptical. He was pretty sure that, as a Marauder, he would have already found (and would still remember) a room like that. "Where is it, sir?"

The Headmaster's brilliant blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "Ah, Remus," he said. "It is time for you to discover the delights of the Room of Requirement."

Chapter Text

April 4th, 1978, Seventh-Year Boys' Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts:

James was curled up beneath the covers, a dim light from the end of his wand illuminating the parchment in front of him.

After he'd calmed down, he'd realized that Remus was being logical, that the chance of Snivellus Snape being involved in something as significant as Lily's murder was slim to none. But Snape's smug face still floated in the front of his mind, making him think about screaming and breaking things and doing stuff that would wake up his friends. So he'd settled on this compromise to relieve the awful, pressing rage in his gut. He'd been watching Snivellus' name on the Marauder's Map for two hours now...

And he was acting suspiciously. Of course he was! Right now he was plotting in one of the secret passages with another junior Death Eater - well, they didn't know for sure that Regulus Black was planning to join them, but he was definitely a fan of Voldemort - they were out well past curfew and that was never a good sign.

James pushed his face right up against the map, as if he could hear the Slytherins' secrets right through the parchment, but it remained stubbornly silent. If only he could find out what they were planning...

---

April 4th, 1978, Secret Passageway No. 4, Hogwarts Grounds:

"The way I see it," Severus said thoughtfully, "there are only a couple reasons you would've been Obliviated. One is that you Obliviated yourself, to try and keep the Dark Lord from seeing it if he ever rifles through your memories."

"The Dark Lord is a Legilimens?" Regulus asked.

Severus gave him a flat look. Of course the Dark Lord was a Legilimens; the Dark Lord was everything short of a Metamorphmagus.

Regulus started to hyperventilate.

"Breathe, Black," Severus ordered. "If he really looked through your memories that often, you would have died horribly already."

For some reason, Regulus began hyperventilating even more.

"Right, so we can strike that reason off the list," Severus said, deciding to ignore the panicking child. "The other possible reason is -"

"Can you teach me Occlumency?" Regulus whimpered. "Please?"

Severus paused. His schedule was already very, very full, with class time and homework and the Dark Lord's assignment to him and (he winced) his meetings with the werewolf (he really hadn't thought that one through). But Regulus had guessed, somehow, the way he felt about Lily... Regulus needed to know Occlumency to protect Severus' secrets, if not his own.

He watched Regulus, half-collapsed against the tunnel wall, blind with panic, and sneered to himself.

"Fine," he said. "How long do you think we have before he looks through your mind? Does he do that every Saturday?"

Regulus shook his head. "A month, maybe? I'm good at not catching his attention. He only calls me over and looks me in the eyes about once every six weeks or so."

Severus nodded. "And I doubt he's searching you all that thoroughly. He doesn't do that to his pureblood followers - it offends them. Though I'm not sure why he'd be afraid of offending you..."

Regulus ignored the insult, too occupied with sinking to the floor in relief.

Severus sighed internally; if he and Regulus would be meeting up regularly, they needed to find a better spot. And he'd need a separate spot to meet with Lupin... and another spot to work on his assignment... and another spot for his emergency supplies... and all these hideaways had to be secret from Potter and Black, who knew the castle like the back of their hands...

Later, he'd figure it out later. "Anyway," he said, "I think we can conclude you didn't Obliviate yourself."

Regulus nodded.

"I know that you weren't Obliviated by someone hostile. If someone had caught you doing what you did, they wouldn't have bothered; they would have dragged you straight to our Lord. In any case, you have some very nasty artefacts to prevent someone Obliviating you, don't you?"

Regulus' face burned crimson.

"That leaves one possibility," Severus continued. "You were Obliviated by an ally. Someone must have helped you sneak her out of there, and they insisted on it for their own safety." He leaned forward dramatically. "So the question of the night is - who?"

---

Yes, they really did need a more secure location than a hole in the ground. Severus could think of several Aurors that would kill to have this much information on their Lord's followers. Their Lord insisted they attend the weekly meetings masked, hiding their faces from each other, to protect them against traitors. But between his own light Legilimency and Regulus' penchant for eavesdropping, they had enough names to fill most of a piece of parchment.

"I'm not sure how we should go about eliminating people," Regulus murmured. "We don't know enough about anyone to cross them off."

"Maybe we don't need to," Severus said thoughtfully. "Obliviation leaves behind traces, wisps of emotion with no discernable source. Is there anyone on this list you get strange feelings about? Anyone you trust, or who you suspect of being disloyal, without really knowing the reason?"

"Other than you?" Regulus took their parchment and scanned it. "I've always had, how did you put it, 'strange' feelings about Bellatrix Lestrange, that's nothing new. Hmm... Nott maybe? He sort of strikes me as uncomfortable with violence."

"He's on the Wizengamot, though," Severus reminded him. "Didn't they have a gathering that day? They had to debate that new legislation about Knarl quills and troll bogies."

"Right, yeah," Regulus snorted. "Merlin, I can't imagine what it must be like to be Nott or Rosier. One day they're murdering muggles and taking torture from our Lord, the next they're sitting in the Ministry for most of the day, figuring out the most humane way to pick a troll's nose."

"Anyone else?" Severus snapped.

He was taking his sweet time rereading their list, Severus thought.

"...Maybe," Regulus said. "I'm not sure - Igor Karkaroff? You remember him?"

Severus remembered Igor Karkaroff very well - he'd been the Defense teacher his first year. A man with a slimy, cheerful demeanor and a goatee, he'd constantly favored Black over the other students, due to his most noble pedigree. Black, of course, had shamelessly used this to blame Severus for a number of incidents, and Severus had been in detention with the man almost weekly.

"I don't really think he's the type to help you with that," Severus said. "But I suppose I haven't seen him in a while."

"I suppose we don't have any better leads," Regulus agreed. "How are you going to get information out of him? If he really Obliviated me, he'll be tough to talk to."

"I have a plan," Severus said.

"Just - please don't hurt him," he requested. "If he really helped me get the body out, he doesn't deserve -"

"I have no intention of causing him physical, mental, magical, or emotional pain," Severus reassured him. "My idea is more elegant than that."

"Good," Regulus said. "Um, if you're willing to tell me... what do you want to do with this information?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "It's a way to sneak something out of the Dark Lord's mansion. Of course I want to know what in the world you did. For one thing, it might be useful in an emergency."

What Severus didn't say was that he cared little about what might happen to him during an emergency. No, he was well past the point of wanting an escape hatch. But if something could be smuggled out of his Lord's knockoff castle, something might be smuggled in.

"True," Regulus yawned. "So, when's my first lesson?"

Severus looked him over. He was tired, and having recovered from his earlier fright, was totally off his guard. There was no better time to test him.

He raised his wand and stared into Regulus' silver eyes. "Legilimens."

Chapter Text

April 4th, 1978, Secret Passage No. 4, Hogwarts Grounds:

After an hour of testing and brainstorming, Severus had learned a few things.

Regulus was terrible at putting his mask on. It could take him up to four minutes of meditation. Severus was going to drill him on this ruthlessly; he could sink into one of his own false personas in the half of a heartbeat. Severus was grateful that Regulus already knew the basics of Occlumency; teaching that skill would be so much more painful otherwise.

The character they had invented was, at least, relatively convincing. "Worm" was a craven, cowering, unambitious thing that trusted no one and the Dark Lord least of all; it cared for nothing but avoiding attention and aspired to nothing but petty revenges on a few enemies. It was meant to inspire contempt, and contempt it did inspire; the Dark Lord would brush it to the back of his mind and never trouble himself to look further.

When the mask wasn't up, some of Regulus' emotions were still gooey, leading to nothing. Severus supposed this was a result of the Obliviation - perhaps Regulus had reacted badly to it.

There was a thread of warm trust and admiration in the boy's mind, one that led to a sharp, clear memory of himself taking on Potter and Black simultaneously in second year. Severus remembered the incident - he'd taken the opportunity to ambush them both, and had hit them with the Weeping Sore Curse - but apparently Black had been having a go at Regulus for some stupid reason. This finding was automatically shoved to the back of his mind - he'd sort of known the younger Black looked up to him, but he did not have the emotional energy to do anything with the knowledge.

As the lesson wore on, Severus realized that, except for the gooeyness and mushiness, Regulus was in a near-constant state of terror and shame. He'd joined the wonderful organization his wonderful mother supported so wholeheartedly, only to realize that yes, cleansing the world of Mudbloods and blood traitors involved actually killing them. Severus realized he was feeling slight pity. He hated where he'd wound up too - bound body and soul to Lily's murderer - but he, at least, had known what sort of organization he'd joined beforehand. He really had no one to blame but himself.

"So, how'd I do?" Regulus asked, exhausted.

"Adequate," Severus said. "I want you to practice masking and unmasking three times each morning and evening - yes, even tonight - and before you eat each meal. Getting it up in time to actually use it is your greatest weakness. The persona itself could use some more detail, especially in how it feels about the people you know. On the whole, though, it's a rather clever concept."

Regulus grinned at him, pleased.

"We'll have another lesson on Friday," Severus told him. "Keep practicing until then. Remember, it's not just your own secrets you're keeping - if he breaks into your head, I'm in trouble too."

Regulus nodded solemnly. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't let you down."

---

April 4th, 1978, Seventh-Year Boys' Dormitory, Slytherin Dungeons, Hogwarts:

The thing about masks was that they couldn't stay on forever.

Severus was curled in his four-poster bed. He'd closed the curtains and charmed them to stick that way, and he'd put up a strong Muffliato and Silencio. He had been Occluding continuously for around sixteen hours now, which wasn't even supposed to be possible. Or maybe the author of that particular Occlumency book had just been stupid. Keeping his mask up was demanding more magic than he could channel.

The night before, he'd had a nightmare about Lily - the first of what he was sure would be many. He'd listened to her screaming and begging him for help, watched Bellatrix Lestrange drive a dagger into her heart, and turned away to kneel before his Lord, thanking him for this "cleansing". Having to wake up from that, he just... couldn't. He had sunk into the simplest version of himself, "Spite," a person exactly like him that never felt strong emotions or lost his cool.

The mask suppressed all those strong emotions, storing them away in the back of his mind until he was ready and safe to process them.

Severus checked his watch, braced for pain and cut off his mask from his magic.

The first thing he felt was sickening anger. Anger at his dream, for a moment (didn't he suffer enough from grief while he was awake?) and then a long, endless agony of anger toward the world around him: toward his classmates (how dare they act like they were fine, like the world hadn't shattered at the center), toward his teachers (she was your student, you should have kept her safe), toward himself (you could have saved her, you could have saved her if you'd been faster, taken precautions, safeguarded her like the treasure she was...)

But all this was a backdrop to his hatred for his Lord. For his Lord's servants, who had hurt Lily (as if they had a right to so much as touch her). For Pettigrew, despite his being well beyond further revenge. This hatred, which would have caused Severus to lash out on its own, was here compressed and doubled back on itself and multiplied by orders of magnitude. Severus blindly thrust out his hands, needing to find them, hurt them, and when he only found blankets he threw back his head and roared with rage.

Then came fear, fear not that he would die, but rather fear he would fail, that Lily's killers would be left alive to revel in their triumph, or endure uncaring of the crime they had committed. A dozen built-up flashes of sickening fear lanced into his mind, and he arched his back and screamed.

Severus' dormmates slept on, unaware and unhearing.

The next emotion was grief. A few notes of birdsong, a sunbeam dancing through leaves, the smell of parchment and the quiet dusty library - they had brought her to mind, just for a moment. A stew of self-pity and anger (why did you have to leave me?) washed over him, punctuated by moments of sheer, raw pain, and Severus wailed like a lost child.

Finally, there was a moment of loneliness, confusion, and somehow, hope. Then -

Severus came to himself, panting in the darkness, and checked his watch. The recoil had lasted about half a minute, same as always.

Well, he knew now why no one used Occlumency as a coping mechanism. That had been remarkably unpleasant - actually, it had been the worst experience of his life, worse even than the day Lily had died, worse perhaps than the Cruciatus Curse. He was never, never going to do that again, not unless the Dark Lord himself decided to search his mind for sixteen hours straight.

Severus closed his eyes, exhausted, not daring to Occlude first. In moments he was taken by sleep and nightmares.

Chapter Text

April 6th, 1978, Hogwarts Library, Hogwarts:

The Hogwarts Library was an uncanny place at night. The shelves rustled with shadows, lit only by dim starlight. A shining ghost drifted down an aisle, silently going about the business of the dead. Beneath a desk, a dust-colored cat sniffed at the air. There was the faintest flicker in front of her; there was floor where there should be nothing, carpet where there should be a chair leg, and a slight scent of ink and blood -

Mrs. Norris yawned and curled into a catnap.

Beneath a powerful Disillusionment Charm, Severus Snape grimaced. He blamed himself for many things, but he did not blame himself for failing to fool that cat, who could probably sniff out Dumbledore himself. He was just lucky that he could cast a nonverbal Sleeping Spell. Severus put his wand back in his sleeve and continued walking along the wall, grazing it with the tips of his fingers.

Behind him, the air did not flicker and the shadows were unmoving, because the Potters' Invisibility Cloak was perfect, and its illusion was without flaw. Beneath the Cloak, James watched the dot on the Marauder's Map labeled "Severus Snape," a mere finger-width from his own dot. Snape was moving along the wall, slow and seemingly aimless. Trying not to rustle the map, James followed.

Then the dot on the map stopped. James stared at the wall. There was a splash of some milky-white mineral in the stone, barely visible in the starlight. Just on the edge of hearing was the distinct scratch of a pencil on parchment. After several minutes of scratches, the dot started moving again, and so did James.

Two invisible people chased each other around a starlit castle. Snape stopped thrice more: once before he left the library, once in the Great Hall, and once in the twisting depths of the dungeons. Each time notes were taken, almost soundlessly. Then Snape began to hurry. James grew excited, almost tripping as he tried to follow, until Snape slipped into Slytherin Dungeon. James watched him scurry up to his dormitory on the Map.

James went back to the splash of white stone in the library and looked at it. It was covered in tiny scratches that glinted bronze beneath his Lumos. As he examined the wall, he grew more and more bewildered - the scratches were far too delicate, too numerous to be accidental, but they served no purpose as far as he could see. The patterns felt familiar, they almost looked like -

They looked like ancient runes. Lily would know what they meant.

Grief hit him like a freight train. James found himself with his fist in his mouth, trying not to have a breakdown in the middle of the hallway.

Lily was gone. Just after she had found him, she had gone where he could not follow. They would never go to Hogsmeade together. They would never flirt or fight again.

James forgot about the runes utterly. He fled the dark library, fled for Gryffindor Tower, fled for warmth and light.

---

April 8th, 1978, Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts Grounds:

If Hogwarts' library was unsettling at night, then the Forbidden Forest was positively eerie.

It had rained that day, and though the clouds had parted to allow faint starlight to illuminate the earth, the forest was completely dark. Unseeable brambles and bushes hemmed in from every side, black branches blocked the stars above, and each leaf was slick with dripping rainwater. Scurrying forest creatures could be heard above the soft, padded paws of a predator. In a cold den beneath a thornbush, a fox stirred in its sleep and cracked open an eye. Something was travelling through the forest with eager, crunching footsteps, not seeming to bother with stealth. The fox remained awake, ears twitching and yellow eyes narrowed, long after the sounds had faded.

Some minutes later, Severus knelt beside an old, mouldering stump and whispered, "Finite Incantatum." His Supersensory and Disillusionment Charms faded away. No spell of his could interfere in what he was about to do.

There was nothing to mark this spot from any other part of the Forbidden Forest, but when Severus closed his eyes, he could sense magic. It was magic he had only sensed in the walls of Hogwarts, solid as stone and sleepy as an elderly dragon, marking and guarding the edge of Hogwarts' territory. Severus held out a small marble tablet, on which was carved:

ᚩᛚᚢ ᚢ ᛉ ᛚᛚ ᚪᛟ

ᛠᚣᛄᚣᚦ ᚢ ᛉ ᛚᛚ ᚪᚷ

ᛟᛖᚳᛈ ᚢ ᛉ ᛚᛚ ᚪᛉ

The slab was vibrating, which was a good sign; it was resonating with the old, cold magic that collected here, eager to unite with it and alter the way it worked. Severus should have been excited, or at least relieved, but all he could think about was Lily. Lily who loved to solve puzzles and mysteries, Lily who had planned to become an Unspeakable, Lily who would have loved this project so much. Severus could see her excitement and smile in the darkness in front of him, and he found himself swallowing back tears.

Something was prodding at him, something old and cold and suspicious. Severus tried to focus on his stone, concentrate on the meaning of each rune, but found himself thinking instead about why he was here, kneeling on the ground in a dripping forest, holding a piece of white rock.

Severus had taken on this project in a panic, at first. His Lord had ordered him to map out Hogwart's magical defenses, in preparation for an attack. Severus had been horrified to discover how weak they were. If the Dark Lord had marched on the castle with all his allies and attacked with no warning...

Hogwarts would have died. Lily would have died.

Severus didn't care about his own life, much less the lives of others. But Hogwarts was his home, the first place he'd truly felt safe and happy. He couldn't let his Lord defile it with his presence, even after he was gone.

The quartz jumped out of his hands and burrowed silently into the dirt.

Severus brushed away the soil from the place where his tablet had vanished. It was still there, gleaming white in the starlight, but when he tugged at it, he found it was as immovable as bedrock. He let his fingers graze the glinting black runes, and when he touched them, he understood what each symbol meant.

No outsider may enter if their arm weeps with bondage.

No outsider may trespass if they bear a snake-tongued death's-head.

No outsider may be near the charges if they have been claimed by Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Severus carefully reburied the new wardstone and brushed dirt off his hands. The ghost of an elated smile flickered on his face. Reapplying his Supersensory and Disillusionment charms, he began his long, dripping trek back to the castle.

Chapter Text

April 9th, 1978, Great Hall, Hogwarts:

Severus' hands were shaking. He wondered, distantly, if they would be steady again in his lifetime.

An idea had come to him that morning, the sort of idea that was either brilliant or very, very stupid, and now his stomach wouldn't stop churning. He was excited and sick and his heart was beating against his ribcage and why was his watch ticking so slowly?

And he had to eat breakfast, of all things, in an hour the war might be over and he might be dead, but he needed to spend his time eating breakfast because no one could know he was planning something.

"...I wish you could have seen it, the squeal he made was just beautiful, Severus, he sounded like a little bitty piglet - Severus?"

And he had to make conversation as well, but Severus' hands were trembling again and he needed to take a deep breath to make the adrenaline go away for a few more heartbeats. His lungs hurt.

"Are you alright, Snape?" Wilkes asked.

"Fine," he snapped. "I'm just lovely."

Severus decided this pretense was destined to fail. He grabbed a few slices of toast and stalked out of the Hall. He preferred the Forest anyway - and if he really did have less than an hour to live, he wasn't going to spend it listening to Alana Wilkes chew with her mouth open.

The day outside was suited for a Sunday morning. Bright beams of sunlight danced through green leaves to rest on his face, and birds sang a joyful chorus as they fluttered between branches. Severus sat, closed his eyes, and went over his plan in his mind.

The Ministry of Magic seemed to spend all its time on arresting Death Eaters and chucking them in Azkaban. The Order of the Phoenix preferred to guard points of interest from the Death Eaters and keep them out of powerful positions in the Ministry. Neither group was able to target the Dark Lord himself - that elusive character who barely appeared on his own battlefields. Here, Severus had an advantage, since he saw his Lord every week.

Once a week, the followers of the Dark Lord would gather at his (borrowed) house, sit at a long table, and listen to him give an overdramatic speech and outline that week's agenda. As the Death Eaters perpetrated one major attack every few months, the agenda didn't change much from week to week. After boring them out of their minds for half an hour, their Lord would dismiss them all to talk amongst themselves while he took reports from a few of them. Severus had, when skimming his colleagues' minds, caught many of them thinking about how utterly pointless those meetings were. Severus agreed. Obviously the Dark Lord wanted to lord it over them. Well, his pride would lead to his downfall.

Severus' Lord was a legendary duelist. Severus had never seen him fight, but the Death Eaters still whispered about how, a few months ago, he'd fought three senior Aurors at once and won, brutally. He could probably, Severus thought, dodge spells without even having to think about it. If Severus wanted to take him down, he couldn't speak an incantation or use a spell that gave off light. He needed to catch his Lord by surprise. The most damaging spell that fit those requirements was a wordlessly casted Obliviate. The spell was never used in dueling, but if Severus erased every single memory in the Dark Lord's brain -

Why, then his Lord would be at his mercy.

Severus went over his plan again and again, searching it for flaws, imagining ways it could go wrong, but he could find none. Incredibly, it seemed like his wild idea would work, that Severus himself would bring down the most feared wizard in the world -

The Dark Lord's voice trailed off, and he looked around, confused, and Severus rose from his seat, poised to strike him down. A single spell unwound from his wand, and his Lord fell in five pieces. As those around him cried out in horror, Severus laughed; even as Bellatrix stood and screamed a curse, even as spell-light found his body, he laughed until he could breathe no longer, until darkness swallowed his vision and he sank into oblivion forever -

Fierce longing rose in Severus' chest as he imagined it. Why couldn't he be there already, down in the darkness of death? Instead of here, with sickening fear to endure and a possible failure to face?

Severus realized his hands were shaking yet again. He took another few deep breaths (they didn't help) and checked his watch. He still had forty minutes to wait.

Severus spent a miserable half an hour trudging around the forest, practicing his silent Obliviate on robins and squirrels. He was almost perfect at the spell; he messed it up about one time in twenty. In any other circumstances, he would be quite proud of himself for mastering such difficult magic. He also practiced his Occlumency.

Deceiving the Dark Lord would require a very specific mask. Smile was, on the surface, exactly who Severus had been three weeks ago: happy to be part of such a powerful group, casually confident in his own skills, admiring of the Dark Lord in a somewhat forced way. Beneath that, Smile was grieving Lily's death, half-ashamed of that grief, resentful of the Dark Lord for destroying her while understanding he had no right to be resentful. It was the most complex mask Severus had ever used, and it took a lot of his magic to keep both "layers" covering his mental "face." But if his Lord ever decided to peer behind his brain's surface-level emotions (and for such a powerful Legilimens, it was as easy as thought), he would see Smile's second layer, not Severus' real mind. The layered mask was, Severus thought, a brilliant invention.

(As a matter of fact, Severus had zero reason to believe a layered mask would work the way he thought it would. The fact that he survived his very next meeting with the Dark Lord was due to sheer, dumb luck.)

Severus slipped in and out of this persona a few times, practicing the transition between Severus and his slimy Smile. Checked his watch. Practiced his Obliviate a few more times. Made sure his equipment (both his wands, a brewing knife, and some useful potions) was all secure on his person. Spent a few minutes with his eyes shut and his fists clenched, trying to push down his fear and not liking the way his anxious stomach was flopping around like a fish. Checked his watch again.

Finally, impossibly, it was time. Severus turned to look at the castle, wanting one last glimpse of his (home, prison, battleground) school.

Severus realized he would never see his dormitory again: the textbooks he'd painstakingly edited, the bed he'd slept in for six and a half years. A wave of grief struck him in the chest. He wanted to walk through the entire castle, saying goodbye to every chair, every table, every book in the library - but there was no time. Severus had known he would die soon, but now his death was upon him and there was no time to say goodbye -

Severus turned away from the castle and focused firmly on the forest in front of him. He was going to walk through that treeline, and he was going to sit through half a meeting with the foulest people on the planet, and then he was going to kill, and then he was going to rest. He would avenge his faerie girl, and then he would die smiling. There was no room to fit anything else in his life. Severus would never again brew a potion, cast a curse at the Marauders, speak a word to another wizard -

"Severus!"

...Huh. Severus had forgotten about the newest Death Eater. Which was fair, considering he'd joined a mere two weeks ago.

"I've been working on Worm, just like you said, and -"

Severus clapped a hand over Regulus' blabbery mouth. "Quiet," he snapped, then said, "Show me."

Regulus closed his eyes for a few seconds. When they opened, Severus saw terror and shame and petty pride. None of it led to memories of disloyalty.

"Excellent," he said. "Can you keep that going until we get back?"

Regulus nodded. "What about your mask?"

"It's ready," Severus said. "C'mon, let's go."

Regulus took his hand as they walked into the Forbidden Forest. Severus rolled his eyes and let him. Honestly, Regulus was so needy... Pettigrew would be making his way to the edge alone. They didn't need to attract suspicion by leaving together.

But perhaps it was kind of nice. And it distracted him from his own torturous fear.

Why couldn't they be there already?

"It's quite beautiful out," Regulus commented, some while later. "It's hard to believe we're going to-"

"Shut up," Severus hissed. "Are you trying to get us overheard?"

"Oh," said Regulus. "Sorry."

"But you're right," Severus felt compelled to add, "it is an oddly beautiful day."

It was almost as if Hogwarts knew he was saying farewell.

Almost as if she knew he was not coming home.

Severus knew he was being hideously sentimental, but -

It was a good way to say goodbye.

They reached the edge of Hogwarts' property line. Severus felt that old cold magic pass over him and vanish.

He was almost there - he was so close to being done -

He spun on his heel and Apparated away.

---

April 9th, 1978, Main Hall, Castellum Aeternum:

Castellum Aeternum was, in a twisted way, a fitting place to meet on a Sunday. It was a tall, narrow building built from delicate pink granite, crowned with flashing spires that scraped the sky. It had been one of the Muggles' cathedrals, before the Lestranges took it over a few centuries ago. The family had owned it until a few years ago, when Rodolphus and Bellatrix had decided it was an honor to surrender it to their Dark Lord. The interior of the building had been redone, of course; but from outside the building's original function was obvious to anyone with even a passing knowledge of Muggle culture (which meant three or four of their group at the most.)

Severus and Regulus walked through the door and into a meeting hall that could have been designed by a four-year-old. The walls were flat panels of stark white, twenty feet tall and close together. They were adorned at random intervals with tiny alcoves and reflected in a jet-black marble floor. A ludicrously long table stretched down the hall, built of polished silver and surrounded by rickety chairs. At the head of the table was a throne, made of more black marble, carved with silver symbols in painstaking detail, quite out of place.

The ceiling was the only magical thing in the room. Like the Great Hall, it showed an illusion of an infinite sky; but this sky was untouched by sunlight, and was instead lit by dim stars that cast the room in a strange, pale twilight. It was a neat bit of magic, and maybe it even impressed some of the Death Eaters. But Severus, who had just come from the real Hogwarts, found it pathetic. Did the Dark Lord miss his school days so much that he had built this sad imitation of the Great Hall for his home?

Severus blinked, and Smile rose to the front of his mind. It felt disgusting, servile, flawless. He blinked again, and settled so deeply into the role of Smile that he almost forgot he was Occluding.

Smile felt hushed awe as he gazed upon an arched ceiling, lit with burning stars that ought to be hidden behind the blue sky. He and Regulus sat in their chairs - rickety, riddled with splinters, befitting of their low status compared to their Lord - and waited for their compatriots to join him. One by one, the others filed in, robed in elegant black, their white masks almost glowing in the starlight.

When the hall was full, he strode to the head of the table.

"My friends," he began. "My loyal servants. My most devoted followers."

He was a tall man with an aristocratic face and bearing. Fine, dark hair framed a face handsomer and haughtier than even Sirius Black's, and his dark red eyes flicked to each of his followers, one by one by one, while his soft voice rolled through familiar words.

"Today we are gathered to celebrate..."

Smile squirmed as he listened to the speech. His Lord was very wise, and Smile was honored to follow him, but the weekly speeches were a little repetitive - Smile shoved that thought to the back of his mind and resolved to improve his attention span. Smile did not know that his hands were not fidgeting for no reason, that they were in fact drawing his wand from its pocket inside his sleeve, that the wand was being pointed at his beloved Master. Then Smile faded a little, shrank to a paper-thin mask, as Severus channeled his magic instead to a wordless Obliviate.

The Dark Lord's voice trailed off, and he looked around, confused...

The Dark Lord continued his speech.

Severus readjusted the angle of his wand, making sure it was parallel to the edge of the table. He tried again. And again.

He was casting the spell correctly, he could feel his magic twisting through his wand, and it shouldn't be missing his target - his hands for once were perfectly steady - but something was keeping the charm from hitting anything.

As the usual catchphrases rolled by, and Smile nodded along, Severus flicked his wand in a silent Lumos. He tilted his head back to glance beneath the table. The end of his wand glowed faint blue. Maybe his aim was somehow still off.

Severus then did something rather risky. He put his wand an inch away from Regulus' thigh and cast a Stinging Hex. Regulus did not react.

Somehow, in the cathedral, any spell was annihilated the moment it flew from his wand.

Smile nearly vanished. For a full five seconds, Severus' mind was almost unprotected as he choked on bitter disappointment. He was so close...

Then he threw himself back into his false persona and tucked his wand back in his sleeve, just before the Dark Lord glanced his way. Smile calmly looked into two red eyes, and after a second, the Dark Lord's gaze moved on.

"...And finally, Rodolphus has added a new system of runic wards to this building. You are expected to report any irregularities to him."

Smile and Severus both realized what the Dark Lord's gambit was. A spy trying to circumvent the cathedral's security might ask Rodolphus about this system of wards. Rodolphus would then report the questioner to the Dark Lord.

Smile thought with admiration about how clever his Lord was, while Severus was preoccupied with something far more troubling. One of the Death Eaters was missing. Regulus Black was next to him, but everyone else here was a tall, fully grown adult. Where was Pettigrew?

Severus almost lost his grip on his Occlusion again when he realized what had happened.

The Dark Lord had tried to look into Pettigrew's mind last week, and he had seen that Pettigrew no longer had a mind. He had, like Severus, realized there were other ways of disabling a wizard than killing him. He had been so scared that he had built an entire web of wards from the ground up in seven days flat.

Severus had no time to wallow in his disappointment - the people around him were standing and stretching, and his Lord was already gesturing him to a corner to give his report. Severus fixed his Smile on and went to his Lord and knelt.

"I am still finding more wardstones, my Lord," he said.

"Show me," the Dark Lord murmured, and Smile raised his head to meet his Lord's red gaze. He let himself remember the night before last, when he had hiked out to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, feeling for that cold magic, and dug a white stone out of the dirt. He focused on how very new the carvings seemed, and how pristine the stone was compared to the others he'd found. He thought about the words that had entered his mind as he had brushed his finger along the runes. No outsider may enter if their arm weeps...

(Severus had spent over an hour meditating on that memory, preparing it for presentation to his Lord. He hadn't fabricated anything; he had just let the unimportant parts of that night - like the stone leaping out of his hands, or his satisfaction upon seeing it working - fade into oblivion. If Severus had done otherwise, he would have died right there.)

"I think he has realized he needs to close any potential loopholes," Smile said.

The Dark Lord hissed in frustration. Smile flinched. If his Lord wished to punish him... well, his Lord would have the right. Nothing Smile could do about it.

"I am growing impatient," the Dark Lord snarled. Smile said nothing. (It would not be wise.)

"I want you to start looking for chinks in their defenses," his Lord said.

"Without a full knowledge of Hogwarts' wards?"

"You know enough to start trying things," snapped the Dark Lord. "You will test any loopholes in their wards that you come up with. While you complete your catalog of wardstones. I am not very satisfied with your present performance, Severus."

"Yes, my Lord," Smile said.

The Dark Lord flicked his fingers in dismissal.

Smile bowed as he backed away.

That had gone remarkably well. The bad news had been delivered to the Dark Lord, and he hadn't been punished with even a Stinging Hex.

(Severus was struggling, in the back of his mind, to keep feeling that relief. He was not so self-destructive as to drop the mask and mope now, but the temptation was strong.)

These meetings would not continue to go well, however, if he kept failing. He would need to find a loophole, something, anything that might be useful, if he wanted to stave off the punishment he deserved, and please his Lord.

Smile was startled from his artificial musings by an ice-cold hand around his arm. Before he could blink, he was dragged off to one of the featureless alcoves. He glanced at the hand's long, dagger-like nails. This was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Smile tried to tug himself free, but her hand was as strong as steel. Bellatrix giggled and tapped her wand to the wall. Smile shrieked as the alcove spun around once, twice, and dumped them out. He found himself in an unfamiliar, brightly lit room, alone with Bellatrix Lestrange, who was chuckling and pulling something from her pocket. Smile stumbled to his feet and shoved his hand up his sleeve, fingers searching for his wand, before they switched for some reason to grabbing for his knife -

Chapter Text

April 9th, 1978, the Strange Room, Castellum Aeternum:

"Severus!" Bellatrix chirped. "It's so good to see you again!"

The room was too bright to see anything. Smile squinted, clutching the knife strapped beneath his sleeve. If Bellatrix attacked him now, he wouldn't be able to block -

Bellatrix giggled. "Did Bella startle you?" she crooned. "Bella startled you!" Smile felt himself pushed into a cushioned chair, and then Bellatrix finally stepped back.

"You did startle me, Madam Lestrange," Smile told her. His heartbeat was slowly settling as his vision adjusted to the light. He could see her clearly now; she was flopping into a chair a few feet away from him. She was a young woman with black, curly hair and an unsettlingly possessed gleam to her dark eyes, but at the moment, she had an almost adorable pout on her face.

"Aw, did I scare you?" she whined. "I'm sorry..."

Smile shook his head. "No harm done, Madam," he reassured her. He looked around the room. Where was he?

The walls were painted a soothing green, illuminated by an elegant silver chandelier. Potted plants were positioned around the room, growing clusters of large, moon-like flowers, which bloomed and withered and bloomed again every minute or so. A marble fireplace was built into one wall, filled with dancing silver flames, and the floor was covered in a soft grey carpet. Morning light streamed from a stained glass window, which depicted an abstract gold and blue sunrise. The room was far more soothing than Smile had expected, given that Bellatrix Lestrange lived here.

(Severus wondered, more than a little miffed, why Bellatrix Lestrange got fancy silver flames when no one could even cast a Stinging Hex. Was it a prior enchantment, or was her wand tied into the - )

“Sewas!” a voice shouted. "Sewah, Sewah, Sewah!" Smile stood as a little boy ran into the room, stumbling in haste. He was a chubby two-year-old, with his mother's black curls and his father's nut-brown skin and a smile all his own.

“Hey, Ori,” Smile said, a grin bubbling up from inside him and almost taking hold on his face. He picked the boy up and hugged him.

(In the back of his own mind, Severus was smiling too.)

"He hasn't been giving you any trouble, has he?" Smile asked, as he sat back down and settled a squirming Orion Lestrange onto his lap. "Now that he can run around the house on his own?"

“Oh, nothing I can’t handle,” Bellatrix said, watching her son fondly from beneath her long eyelashes. “He’s becoming obsessed with Gobstones; I can just give him a set and not hear from him for hours, it’s glorious.”

Smile chuckled.

“So, how do you like my house?” Bellatrix asked, gesturing around the room.

Smile blinked. The Lestranges lived here? Well, of course they did; it was their house, no matter what the Dark Lord was doing with it. Smile was just surprised that anyone would want to stay here, the weekly meetings were miserable enough - Smile realized that wasn't a very loyal thought, and tried to focus on the woman in front of him.

“It's not really what I expected,” he said. “I always figured you’d go for the bloodstained rugs and skulls on the tables…”

Bellatrix laughed. “Dolphi had to have his say, of course. And… I don’t know… it’s kind of nice, not having to be insane all the time.”

Smile raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“Just every once in a while,” she corrected herself, and turned as her husband entered the room.

Rodolphus Lestrange was a stocky, grizzled man. Smile had never told him so, but Rodolphus looked at least twice as old as his wife – possibly because he was. He looked Smile over, his stormy grey eyes glinting approvingly.

“Glad to see you could make it,” he said in his familiar gruff voice. “No trouble?”

“None,” Smile replied. He decided not to tell the man his wife had basically kidnapped him and made him fear for his life. Bellatrix had meant well. Probably.

"So," he began, as Rodolphus settled into a chair next to his wife. "Why am I here?"

"We wanted to ask -" Rodolphus began, but he was rudely interrupted.

"Sewah!" Orion yelled again, waving his fist around. Clenched in the fist was a bright red marble. "'Uk!"

"Yes, I see," Smile told him gravely. "It's a fine Gobstone, Ori."

"Well, that's one reason," said Rodolphus.

"Orion is an excellent reason," said Smile.

Bellatrix giggled. Rodolphus grinned, but he seemed preoccupied with examining Smile, who shifted nervously. Orion had dropped the Gobstone onto the carpet and was closely examining Smile's thumb.

"How are you doing, Severus?" Rodolphus asked him.

Smile sighed. He hated this sort of conversation.

"Pretty well," he said. "I never felt much for my father." Which was the absolute truth.

"I meant the girl," Rodolphus informed him.

Bellatrix straightened up indignantly. "Severus would never be concerned with that mudblood!"

"Mumumumumuh!" Orion agreed, and yanked hard on Smile's thumb.

"I - ouch - I wouldn't," Smile said. "It's just... weird that - Ori, ow! I knew her for so long, you know?"

Rodolphus nodded understandingly. Bellatrix scowled. Smile realized that honesty was not quite the best policy.

"But she had to go, I understand that," he hastened to add. "Doesn't matter how I feel about the matter."

That got nods from both of the Lestranges. Orion nodded as well, and (thankfully) let go of his thumb.

"Mostly I'm worried about my, er, homework," he continued, glad to change the subject.

"Ooh, do you need help with Charms?" Bellatrix asked eagerly. "Or Astronomy?"

Smile rolled his eyes. Bellatrix could be such a nerd.

"I'm not in Astronomy right now, Bella, remember?"

"Aww..." Bellatrix whined.

"I meant the assignment that our Lord gave to me."

"Yeah, what is that?" Bellatrix asked eagerly. "No one seems to know!"

Smile grinned. Everyone knew what Malfoy and Nott and Rodolphus' jobs were, but his mission was a secret.

Then Smile frowned. His mission was a secret.

"Can I actually tell you?"

"Probably not," Rodolphus said glumly, interrupting his wife.

Smile sighed, and then he thinned as Severus took a moment to think.

He was out of his depth. He had to look for loopholes in the runic system that secured Hogwarts (and it was terrifying how many he'd already found) and patch them up in a way that would not conflict with the protections already in place. He only had an O.W.L. in Ancient Runes, and while he'd passed that class with an E, it wasn't enough. Meanwhile, the Hogwarts library had few books on Runes besides a useless English-to-Futhark dictionary. And he needed to experiment with what magic was or wasn't possible here if he wanted to pull off a successful assassination. The Dark Lord would probably punish him for letting slip anything about his mission, but Severus knew from experience that punishment was survivable.

"Runes are involved," Smile said as Severus shrank to the back of his mind. That one sentence would probably be enough for them both to guess that he was breaking through Hogwarts' security. But there was nothing he could do about that. "Ancient Runes. I'm having trouble taking books from the Hogwarts library discreetly. And I'm worried about keeping my notes secure, since I live in a dorm. Am I allowed to come here and work on things?"

Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked at each other. Orion (perhaps not wanting to feel left out) glanced up at Smile and said, "Gah!"

"We'd love to have you here more often, Severus," Bellatrix started.

"But we would need certain... assurances," said Rodolphus. "We aren't the only ones who live here, you know."

Smile was still tripping over the idea that someone was living in the same house as his Lord, and smarting with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't him.

(And Severus was snarling with rage and betrayal and thinking that of course the villains would stick together while grinning with glee over this opportunity to bring them down - )

But Smile kept his face smooth as he said, "Oh, of course. A Geas? Or a Cuffeold's Collar?"

A Cuffeold's Collar, if broken, would shatter the transgressor's magic, leaving them almost a Squib. There was only one magical oath more severe -

"We would need an Unbreakable Vow," Rodolphus said apologetically, and Smile was begrudgingly impressed. The Lestranges were going to milk his request for all it was worth, weren't they?

"Okay," he said. "What do you want me to swear?"

"A single oath, not a threefold vow," said Rodolphus. "'I swear to protect the future of our family.'"

Orion, of course. With the Lestranges, it was always about either the Dark Lord or Orion.

Smile looked down at the child, who appeared to be chewing on his collar. Orion smiled back at him, showing a set of splendidly white teeth, and Smile found himself wondering: if things had been different between him and Lily, would they be sitting in a room like this, holding a child like this as their son?

"Is that okay?" Bellatrix asked, and Smile found himself nodding and reaching out his hand. Rodolphus caught it in his own as Bellatrix got out her wand.

"Sigsponsum ad mortem!" Bellatrix cried as she placed the tip of her wand onto their joined hands.

(Apparently, Severus noted, this didn't count as having magic leave the wand. Only once a spell met the air was it snuffed out. Which would be very useful information if his Lord would allow him to walk up to him, place his wand on his temple, and say Avada Kedavra - )

"Not doing it nonverbally, dear?" Rodolphus teased her.

Bellatrix glared at him. "I'm trying to focus, Dolphi."

"Dowfee!" Orion squealed happily. "Dododododo -"

Smile nearly found himself laughing at the look on Rodolphus Lestrange's face. Bellatrix was giggling madly.

"Oh, for the love of -" she said, exasperated. "Can we start again?

"Of course, dear," Rodolphus said sweetly. "Take your time."

Bellatrix huffed at him. "Sigsponsum ad mortem!"

Bellatrix had gotten the spell right this time. A tingling fire spread from the tip of her wand to Smile's wrist.

"Will you, Severus Snape," Rodolphus intoned, all laughter gone from his face, "to the best of your ability, protect the future of our family?"

"I will," Smile declared. It was an easy vow to make. Protecting Orion meant not hurting him, not drawing attention to the Lestranges -

(Defeating the Dark Lord and his lunatic parents and all the monsters that darkened the world - )

A thin strand of orange light oozed from Bellatrix's wand, winding around their linked hands, writhing like a fiery snake. It sank into their skin, and Smile felt burning, painless heat where it vanished.

"Thank you, Severus," said Rodolphus.

"It was an easy vow to make," Smile shrugged, letting go of Rodolphus' hand. Orion immediately grabbed for his thumb, and Smile had to curl his hand into a fist.

"Now," Rodolphus said. "We have some ground rules for these little visits of ours."

Smile straightened up and looked attentive.

"Firstly, always check in with one of us. And let us know when you leave. If neither of us are here, you aren't allowed here either, unless Orion needs you.

"Secondly, you're only allowed here and in our private library, not in any of the rooms that lead off it. We'll set up a space for you to work. Orion's allowed in there, but don't let him touch any of the artefacts we have in there."

"Skaalll?" Orion asked sweetly.

"No skull," said Bellatrix. "We've told you before, no skull."

"Got it," said Smile. "Anything I shouldn't do because of the new wards here? Or do I not need to worry about that when just doing research?"

"Well," said Bellatrix, "you can't do magic while you're within these walls, so -"

Smile was utterly flabbergasted.

"Wait, how did you do that? I didn't know you could do that with Runes -"

Rodolphus' gaze immediately narrowed, and Smile remembered what he'd thought earlier, about how showing interest might bring the Dark Lord's suspicion.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, "it's certainly not my place to ask that. Do go on."

"Just don't mess with enchanted things," Bellatrix continued, and gestured toward the silver-flamed fireplace. "They're such a pain to fix."

"I would imagine," said Smile.

"I think that's everything," said Rodolphus. "You'll come by in a day or two?"

That was Smile's cue to leave.

"Tuesday, probably," said Smile. He stretched and stood, then set Orion down on the carpet.

Orion looked up at him sadly and said, "Leave?"

Smile bit his lip. "I have to go back to school," he explained to Orion. "But I promise I'll be back here on Tuesday, okay?"

"Two-day?" asked Orion. "Okay! Gobs?"

"Yes, we can play Gobstones on Tuesday," Smile said. "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, I'll see you soon." And he turned to leave.

“Hey, Severus?” Rodolphus asked.

Smile looked back to see a surprisingly tender expression on the old man’s face.

“If you ever need anything, feel free to come to us."

Bellatrix nodded fervently beside him.

Smile grinned at them both. "Thank you," he said. "Truly."

(In the back of his mind, Severus was snarling. How dare they - after what they had done to him, to Lily - )

"I'll see you in a couple days!"

---

Bellatrix drummed her fingers on the windowsill as she watched Severus Apparate away. “What should we tell him?” she asked her husband in a low voice.

Rodolphus joined her at the enchanted window. “What he asked us to,” he said, putting an arm around his wife. “That he seemed curious about the wards, but not overly so. And that disowning his past has been harder for him than it first seemed.”

“You think we should tell him that last bit?” Bellatrix said carefully. “It seems a bit... trivial.”

Rodolphus gave his wife a serious look. “He wanted to know everything,” he reminded her. “That’s the best way of keeping Orion safe." He sighed. "At least the Vow will prevent Severus from acting against our Lord. Since we vouched for him, Severus can't betray us without endangering all of us."

"Comforting," said Bellatrix wryly.

Rodolphus chuckled.

"Our Lord seems to like him, at least," Bellatrix said, then stuck her lip out. "Almost as much as he likes me."

"No one likes him more than you, my love," Rodolphus said, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Especially me."