They had been studying at one of the long tables when they heard eight Slytherins whispering about their DADA classes and Snape's unusually rude behavior. The Slytherins included a tall sixth-year girl with long, reddish-brown hair, four second-years, a third-year, a fourth-year and a first-year. The sixth-year girl seemed to be the leader of the pack.

"I wonder what Professor Snape has against her anyway?" said the third-year student.

"I dunno," said the fourth-year. "I admit, I didn't like the idea of her being a teacher at first, with her being Muggle-born and all, but she's a pretty good teacher. Far better than that first teacher I had - whasshisname?"

"Lockhart?" asked one of the second years.

"Yeah, that's it. She's far better than he ever was. She backs up her talk with action, and you have to respect that! And she's not sadistic like Moody, I mean, Crouch. And she isn't a werewolf."

"Nah, she's too pretty," said another second-year.

"Malfoy isn't too happy about it ..." said the first-year, a little timidly.

"Well, that's fine by me," snarled the sixth-year. "Malfoy's getting too big for his britches anymore. I'm getting right sick of him sauntering around. He needs taken down a peg. I wouldn't even mind if Potter did it, although it would be more fitting if one of us gave it to him."

"Yeah, the way he sucks up to Snape ..." said the third year.

"Or pretends to," replied the fourth year. "I heard from my folks that Snape and Malfoy's old man were real chummy in school. And ... I've heard rumors that Malfoy is in league with You-Know-Who, and that he supposedly returned. So who knows?"

The first year looked scared. "You-Know-Who??? Back?"

"It can't be true!" said one of the second years. "My dad's in the Ministry, and he said there is no truth in the rumors! They're even trying to pass something that will make it illegal to say such things! And besides, Mister Malfoy was only accused by somebody that had a personal grudge. He wasn't really a Death Eater. My dad said so."

"Then your dad is a dunderhead," said the sixth-year. "Or else he's trying to protect you from hearing the truth."

"Do you think Professor Snape would go over to ... him?" asked another second-year.

The sixth-year shrugged. "Who knows? He and Malfoy go way back. And if Malfoy really has gone back to You-Know-Who, then why wouldn't Snape follow suit? At any rate, we need to keep an eye on both Snape and the Malfoys." Her expression suddenly grew hard. "If You-Know-Who is back, we don't want his staunchest followers in this school. My parents said that Snape and Malfoy used to be Death Eaters when he was in power before, you know, part of his inner circle. The reason they weren't sent to Azkaban is because they bought their freedom."

The bell rang, and the Slytherins picked up their books and left to go to class, still talking.

"Dissension in the serpent ranks," whispered Hermione to the other two as they sat there, amazed at what they'd heard. "I never thought I'd see that."

"Hello there."

The three jumped and turned to their right, to see the sixth-year Slytherin girl they had overheard staring at them, her arms crossed over her chest. They stared back, stunned, not sure what to say.

"Hi," Hermione managed to get out. She wasn't sure what to make of this girl, who was a good head taller than even Ron. And while she wasn't as bulky as Millicent Bulstrode, she still looked like she could take any of the three of them in a fair -- or more likely unfair -- fight. She had the athletic build of a soccer player, or even a Beater, although none of them had ever seen a girl play on the Slytherin team. Her hair was casually done up in a sloppy ponytail which hung to her shoulders.

Jaspine regarded Hermione coolly with green, cat-like eyes. "Well, it looks like one of you has a tongue at least. I know you overheard our conversation there ..." the three friends exchanged nervous looks. "But that's OK -- in fact, I'm glad you did."

The Gryffindors' looks changed to complete surprise.

"I reckon I should introduce myself," Jaspine said, and she extended her strong, brawny hand to Harry. "I'm Jaspine Greggs. I know who you are ... you're the famous Harry Potter." Unexpectedly, she moved her extended hand across Harry's bangs, revealing his lightning-shaped scar.

"Hey!" Harry yelled out, a bit loudly for the library. Madam Pince looked over and gave the group a disapproving stare. Harry readjusted his glasses, which nearly flew off of his nose due to Jaspine's unexpected move.

"So it's true," murmured Jaspine, her look calculating. "You do have the scar." She extended her hand again. "Go on, take it!" she said, almost commanding, when Harry hesitated.

Cautiously, Harry took the girl's hand and gasped at Jaspine's strong grip. After she had let go, Harry had to rub his hands for a few moments to get the circulation back. It was almost like shaking hands with Hagrid!

"And you must be one of the Weasleys," Jaspine continued, looking at the red-haired boy. "Ron, right? One of the few in the school who can claim more siblings than me!"

She laughed at her little joke, then looked at Hermione. "And you are Hermione Granger, the school brainiac."

"I've heard of the Greggs family," Ron piped up. "My brother Charlie was good friends with Truman 'Banzaii' Greggs. They both played in their house Quidditch teams. Charlie always said that Banzaii was the only Hufflepuff player who worried him! And there is a Matis Greggs in Hufflepuff, same age as Fred and George -- any relation?"

The tall girl nodded. "I have four older brothers, and there used to be Calvin, but he died before I was born. The other four are Davey, Bryant, Truman and Matty. And then there's me. I'm the youngest."

Harry, meanwhile, was thinking. He had heard -- vaguely -- of "Banzaii," who was given that moniker because of the crazy stunts he loved to pull on a broom, and he knew of Matis ... but they had both been in Hufflepuff. Jaspine was in Slytherin. This was rather unusual.

"Yeah," Ron continued. "I know most of your family were staunch allies of Dumbledore." He put a small emphasis on the word "most," and looked at the tall girl with narrowed eyes.

Jaspine got the implication. She rushed at Ron, grabbed him by the front of his robes and pulled him up to eye level, so they were practically nose to nose. Ron's toes dangled a couple inches off of the ground. Hermione gasped, and Harry fingered his wand nervously.

"Now listen here, and you listen good!" she hissed at Ron. "Not all Slytherins are in league with Voldemort, if it's true that he's returned! You have a lot of nerve, little boy, making such an accusation towards me! I would rather die than align myself with that monstrous ...." and here she said a word that made Hermione squeak in horror, and Madame Pince slam down the book she was reading and scowl at them.

"Put him down and let's go," said Harry in a low voice. "I'm sure Ron wasn't implying anything, were you Ron?" He regarded Jaspine with a look of anger and amazement. On one hand, she looked ready to clobber his best friend. But on the other hand, he had to be impressed: she was the only other student he had ever heard to actually call the dark wizard by his name. Most wizards were terrified of even hearing the word "Voldemort."

Ron shook his head "no," terrified, and Jaspine dropped him back in his chair with a "thump."

"Let's go," Hermione said, nervously. "Before Madame Pince takes points from both of our houses!"

"Oh yes, we must uphold and abide by the brownie point system," Jaspine said and rolled her eyes. But she turned and grabbed her backpack, which was by the doorway, and then looked back, as if waiting for them to follow her.

With some trepidation, Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the tall girl out the door and into the empty Muggle studies classroom.

"No one will be meeting in here for an hour," Jaspine said. "We can talk in here."

"About what?" Harry said. He still wasn't sure they should trust this girl.

"About exposing Voldemort's supporters for who they are ... and getting them shipped out!" she replied.

"Wait a minute," Hermione said. "That's for Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers to do ... not us."

"Don't get me wrong," Jaspine said, as she held up her hands. "I like Dumbledore. He's eccentric, but cool. And he's a good headmaster, despite what the likes of Malfoy may say!" She tossed her head defiantly. "But he's also too trusting ... he doesn't see the snake right in front of him -- on his own staff."

"You mean Snape?" Ron whispered. Jaspine nodded.

"But you are in Slytherin, and Snape always favors students in his own house," Harry asked, puzzled. "Why do you hate him?"

"Because, as I said, I don't like anyone who has worked for him," Jaspine said, then her eyes narrowed. "Unlike Dumbledore, I'm not convinced the good professor has left Voldemort's service. And let's just say I have very personal reasons why I want to get a lot of straight answers from our Potions master!" Her expression became cold, even cruel, and Harry shivered a bit.

"What do you have in mind?" Ron asked, more to humor Jaspine than out of curiosity.

"Exposing Malfoy and his cronies will be easy," Jaspine said. "They talk waaaay too much. Malfoy has said in the Slytherin Common Room that," and here she did an imitation of Draco's drawling voice, "'once my father gains control of the Board of Governors again, Potter will get what's coming to him!'" Jaspine then made a slashing motion with her finger across her throat. The other three instantly grasped the meaning and exchanged nervous looks. "Of course, the idiot doesn't realize that not all Slytherins worship the dirt that the Malfoys drag their slimy selves through. And I'm not just talking about my friends that were with me a few moments ago. I've been watching Draco's buddies, and I think that Crabbe is smarter than he lets on. He's tough to figure out, but I don't think he's quite as enamored with Draco as he used to be. Goyle, on the other hand-- well, he’s hopeless. I've seen rocks with a higher IQ."

Harry suddenly remembered that first conversation between himself and Malfoy in the hall this year, when Draco had said something about Potter having some explaining to do once Lucius Malfoy got control of the school. Draco had been quickly silenced by a poke in the ribs from Crabbe.

"Snape will be tougher," Jaspine continued. "He has Dumbledore's full trust, so I don't think the headmaster would take anyone saying that he's a traitor seriously, especially not a student." She scowled again. "So my plan is to cook Snape in one of his own potions ... take him down, subdue him, drag him off somewhere where we won't be interrupted, and force him to take Veritaserum. We'll record everything he says on a sonoroball and give it to Dumbledore as evidence. Then he'll have no choice but to believe us."

"You are absolutely insane!" Hermione said in disbelief, shocked at Jaspine's brazen words. "I can't believe you have the gall to even suggest such a thing! We would get expelled!"

"Or worse," Ron added. "What makes you think that we could stand up to a wizard like Snape? He'd cream us and laugh at our smoking remains! There wouldn't be enough left of the four of us combined to fill a dungbomb!"

"And besides," Harry said. "You said yourself that not all Slytherins trust Snape ... why are you telling us about this? Why not approach them?"

"They don't hate him like I do," Jaspine said, her expression dark. "They don't hate him enough. And your adventures are pretty well-known. I know that you three and Snape have had a few run-ins. I even heard that the three of you managed to knock him out, and that he's loathed you ever since."

"Okay, granted, we do thoroughly detest him, Jaspine. Who doesn't? But there's no way you are going to talk us into committing this level of mutiny," Hermione said. "Do you have any idea the seriousness of what you are suggesting?"

"Consider this, then," Jaspine said. "He has been out every single night this week. I've been watching him lately. Where is he going? Out to meet with Voldemort, perhaps?"
Ron winced and shuddered. "Don't say...."

But Jaspine continued as if Ron hadn't spoken. "He never gets back until late, either. And he has seemed unusually tired and cross lately. Yawning during his classes, snapping at people for the littlest things..."

"And this is something new?" Ron interrupted sarcastically.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying. It's like he hasn't been himself ever since the school term started. Haven't you noticed? Everyone's been grumbling about it."

"Jaspine, maybe he's scared," Hermione pointed out. "Everyone who believes that You-Know-Who has come back is scared right now. If Snape used to work for the Dark Lord, then maybe he's afraid that his former master will come after him for switching sides."

"And maybe he never did switch sides. Maybe he only pretended to."

"But you don't know that! And I don't think that kidnapping and drugging him is a good way to find out!"

"We have to get to class in a few moments," Harry interrupted quickly. "We'll think about this, Jaspine, but unless something bad happens, I don't think we're sold on this crazy idea of interrogating a teacher."

Jaspine shrugged, as if she had been expecting this type of response. "Ok, think about it. If you decide to help me, you know where to find me!" She left the classroom, while the other three stood staring at each other as she left.

"Can you believe her!" whispered Hermione.

"That girl has issues," Ron said, shaking his head.

"What I'm wondering is if she's secretly in league with Malfoy," Harry muttered. "It would make sense: get us involved in this crazy plot, then pull a Benedict Arnold on us while Snape either kills us or gets us expelled. Draco would love that."

"Ron," Hermione said, "You said you know the Greggs ..."

"Yeah, sort of," Ron replied. "Truman and Charlie are great friends. All of the Greggs' were in Hufflepuff. Well, except this one," he said, as he pointed his thumb towards the exit. "That's rather strange. Not unheard of, but strange."

"Send an owl to Charlie, see what he knows about the family ... and what he might know about her," Hermione said.

"Good idea!" Ron said. "I'll send it this evening!"

****

That evening, Dumbledore and Snape waited in silence in the headmaster's office, the tension between them palpable. A minute ticked by, then another and another.

"Well, is he coming or not?" Snape said icily, his voice somewhat muffled by the white mask he wore. "Because if he does not come in the next five minutes, I'm leaving. I have better things to do then wait around all night until your old war chum deigns to grace us with his overly-late presence."

Snape seemed extremely restless, but when Dumbledore had asked about the Mark, Snape had replied no in a surly tone of voice that he rarely used with the headmaster. That tone of voice Dumbledore had come to realize years ago meant, "shut up and leave me alone, and maybe I'll talk about it later, when I'm good and ready to." It meant quite simply that Snape was wound tighter than a billywig about something and that pushing for details right now was about as wise as shaking a vial of pressurized volcanic acid mixture.

"Relax, Severus, he should be here any minute now," Dumbledore said. "Remember, with all of the extra securities in place, it takes longer for outsiders to get inside the school."

"Hyran is widely known and recognized as second-in-command of all Aurors in the British Isles, and, as you have said frequently, a good friend of yours," Snape replied. "Even after that fiasco with the fake Moody last year, the security isn't that tight. He shouldn't have this much trouble getting here on time."

"He is only a couple of minutes late. Be patient ... ahh, I think I hear him now."

Both wizards heard the whir of the stairs slowly winding up to the doorway of the headmaster's office. Very shortly, they heard a knock on Dumbledore's large, wooden door -- a very loud, authoritative rapping.

"Enter," Dumbledore said.

A large, burly man with a trim beard and mustache, and intelligent, fearless ice-blue eyes strode in. His hair and beard were brown, liberally sprinkled with gray, his right cheek sported a nasty-looking scar, and half his right eyebrow had been burned away at some point in the past and had never grown back. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties.

His formal, military-cut gunmetal gray robes, heavy steel-gray cloak, and rugged, knee-high black boots were fur-lined for long, cold, high-altitude flights. Underneath the robes there was the soft clink and rattle of a dragon-mail tunic and steel breastplate. Hyran's flaming sword hung in an intricately carved silver scabbard at his side -- the symbol of a full auror -- and his rank insignia was embroidered in the material of his robe in the area over his heart. The insignia depicted two Norwegian Ridgeback dragons, tails entwined, mouths agape and spouting scarlet flames. Between the dragons, in the midst of the flames, was an image of the flaming auror sword, and the blade was silver and wreathed in blue flames while the handle was a dull bronze. The Ridgeback dragons indicated at a glance that Auror Brice "Doc" Hyran was one of the ten Captains and a licensed dragonrider. The sword's silver blade meant that he headed a division -- in this case, London and southern Great Britain, the largest division in the U.K. The bronze handle signified that he was chief trainer for junior aurors and apprentices.

"Doc, you old warhorse, how are you doing? I haven't seen you in, let me see...it was before Harry Potter graced us with his famous and formidable presence ... six years ago?"

Dumbledore rose from his seat and strode over to the Auror, hand extended.

"Seven," Hyran ground out acidly, and he was staring suspiciously at Snape with his piercing, ice-blue eyes. Snape, not wishing for Dumbledore's old war buddy (or anyone else outside the Hogwarts circle, for that matter) to know both of his identities, was wearing his full Death Eater garb.

"This, Doc, is the spy I was telling you about earlier. He worked for us during our first war with Voldemort, and he is working for us now. You must forgive his... unwillingness to part with his disguise. He does not trust anyone other than myself to know his true identity."

Hyran clearly mistrusted the spy as intensely as Snape mistrusted him, as he grudgingly took Dumbledore's outstretched hand and grasped it firmly.

"I'm doing all right Albus, all things considering," Hyran replied slowly, shooting another glare at the Death Eater. Dumbledore smiled warmly and gestured towards an empty chair next to Snape, which Hyran rather reluctantly accepted after glancing suspiciously back and forth between Dumbledore and the spy. Dumbledore resumed his seat behind his desk and adjusted his glasses.

"How is Jagger?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly, attempting to diffuse some of the palpable suspicion and animosity radiating from the old auror.

Hyran beamed. "Oh you'd be proud of him, headmaster. He's a fine credit to Gryffindor House, he is. Takes after me. He's talented, level-headed, and knows how to handle dragons as well as he handles his sword and wand. He'll go far, he will. He's a good lad, and he's had excellent training, thanks in no small part to you. So, how is everything here? And have you heard from Alastor lately?"

"Before we start exchanging old war stories," Snape interrupted acidly before Dumbledore could reply, "could we skip ahead to the matter at hand? I have urgent business elsewhere..."

"Ahh, yes, of course, my apologies," Dumbledore replied quickly. "As much as I'd love to chat for a while and catch up on old times, Doc, I'm afraid we do not have that luxury tonight."

Hyran shot Snape a withering look. "You take such cheek from the likes of this snake?"

Snape returned the look unflinchingly and his black-gloved hands clenched and unclenched with restlessness and anger upon the heavy black material of his robe. "Understand, oh high and mighty auror who comes from a very long line of distinguished aurors before him, and will likely spawn a long line of renowned aurors after him, that every moment I spend away from His Lordship's side is another moment he may begin to notice and grow suspicious of my absence. You may think that your career is exciting and dangerous..." and here Snape sniffed derisively, and his eyes glittered with contempt. "You should try mine for a day or two...if you even survived that long."

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly and directed a silencing glare at Snape and Hyran over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "Please, both of you try to ignore each others' uniforms for the duration of this meeting and remember that underneath them, you are on the same side." He gave Snape a quick, pointed look, because in spite of the mask, the headmaster could tell that the Potions master was growing increasingly irritable and agitated. Hyran, for his part, did not look any more pleasant or agreeable.

"Doc, this is the Death Eater who saved my life once during the last war at great personal risk, and whose help has proven invaluable both then and now." Dumbledore stated mildly. "He is the Black Phoenix. And he has come here tonight to provide us with detailed information about an impending attack on Azkaban."

"You are the Phoenix?" Hyran asked with just the merest hint of grudging respect.

I have many names, Snape thought bitterly as he silently met the auror's ice-blue gaze through his mask.

"All right then, let's hear about Azkaban," Hyran requested coldly, still a bit suspicious of the grim masked figure next to him, though less so than when he had first entered Dumbledore's office. "When is it?"

"In two days," Snape replied, barely able to control the hostility in his voice. "Thursday night. Lord Voldemort is planning an all-out assault. The main force will gather in the air at a predetermined point some two miles north of the island and fly in either from the northeast or north-northeast. The Dementors will probably switch sides once the aerial battle has begun, and attack you from within the fortress. Not only should you not count on their support, I would also advise that you plan to immobilize them or at least intimidate them into inaction before the battle begins."

"And how do you know all of this?" Hyran asked.

Snape returned Hyran's glare with a silent threatening stare of his own, and his cold black eyes glittered with malice. "Because I was there during Voldemort's meeting, you dolt," he hissed as he pulled up a sleeve. And there, just above the top of his left glove the Dark Mark could be seen, black and sinister on his pale arm in the flickering light of Dumbledore's fireplace.

"But of course," Hyran snarled. "How else would you know all about his plans?" He then turned an angry gaze toward the Hogwarts headmaster. "Your Phoenix has the stench of innocent blood about him."

Snape's eyes flashed with fury, and he rose from his chair and towered over the veteran auror. "You obviously do not appreciate the risk I have taken merely to come here tonight, and on top of that you spurn my freely offered help and insult me. Defend Azakaban yourself then, arrogant fool! Dumbledore I respect. You I would like to see impaled on the stinging end of one of my master's manticores."

"Silence, both of you!" Dumbledore commanded sharply, holding up his hands to calm the two wizards. "Now you are both here at my request, and I expect you both to act like proper guests while you are in my place of power. I will not insult you by using the Placidus charm on you. Do not insult me by fighting with each other in my presence, and by abusing my trust and respect for you both. I remind you again that you are on the same side."

Snape clenched his hands angrily and sat back down with obvious reluctance. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were filled with barely contained fury. Dumbledore grew increasingly concerned about Snape's behavior with each exchange between the two. It was not like the Potions master to become so enraged over a few little insults. Something else was going on here, and Dumbledore intended to find out what that something was as soon as the matter of Azkaban was taken care of.

"What types of creatures is Voldemort planning to bring?" Dumbledore asked Snape, shooting him a stern look.

Snape deliberately avoided glancing toward the auror next to him as he answered Dumbledore's question rather tonelessly, "I know that Voldemort has at least two dozen battle-ready dragons at his disposal, and more than twice that many hippogriffs." Hyran's head inclined slightly and his eyebrows shot up at the mention of the dragons. He obviously hadn't expected Voldemort to have dragons already, not this early after the Dark Lord's return, Dumbledore noted.

"At last count, there were at least thirty or so combat-trained Death Eaters," Snape continued with a brief hostile glance toward the auror. "They are mostly his former inner circle, but there are a few eager new initiates. They are all ruthless, powerful and very skilled in the Dark Arts. They have been practicing new spells and new fighting techniques, so expect them to be more formidable than when you faced them fifteen years ago. Of greatest concern to you are the new mind-control spells and delusion charms. Ordinary shield spells will not deflect them, and your dragon mail armor will not do a thing to protect you from them. However, there are a few potions and countercharms you will want to have your people prepare and learn before the battle. I have taken the liberty of gathering all pertinent information with regards to the types and numbers of magical spells, weapons, armor, and creatures you could be facing if Lord Voldemort throws his entire fighting capability into this assault," and here Snape produced several scrolls which the auror received with obvious reluctance.

"Too proud to accept aid from the likes of me, are you, oh high and mighty auror?" Snape hissed nastily. "You had better take my advice and put it to use, or else you could find yourself fighting your own people in addition to Voldemort's forces ... that is, if you yourself do not succumb to one of his new curses."

Hyran gave the Death Eater a glacial glare in response, and the tension in the air was so thick that it could have been cut by Godric's sword.

"Go on then," Dumbledore encouraged his old friend mildly. "I told you he can be trusted."

The auror unrolled the first scroll, gave the writing on it a silent cursory glance, then turned a stricken gaze toward the headmaster. "Albus, would you swear upon your wand, upon your life, that this Death Eater can be trusted?"

Dumbledore did not hesitate. "If it will reassure you, then yes, I so swear, Doc."

"Alas, it most certainly does not reassure me. If this information is correct, then Voldemort has already mustered an impressive arsenal."

Snape shot him an I-told-you-so look through the mask and said, "If you can harass them from the air as well as the ground, keep moving, keep them busy, keep them distracted, if you can keep them from making eye contact with you, then may be able to keep them from picking you off one at a time, and you should be able to drive them off with little or no loss to your side.

"However, I have heard rumors that the Dark Lord is now experimenting with reanimated creatures. I have not been able to verify this, and I cannot tell you whether or not such creatures will be a factor at Azkaban."

"Zombies?" Dumbledore whispered in horror. "Voldemort is attempting to make zombies?"

"As I said, it is only a rumor. I have not seen proof with my own eyes, nor have I heard anything about this during the meetings. Knowing the Dark Lord's ambition, it is probably true, but he has not seen fit to update the rest of us on the status of his secret experiments," Snape replied. "What I do know is that he has ordered Macnair to begin establishing additional breeding grounds for creatures such as chimeras, manticores, dragons, griffins and hippogriffs. And no, I do not know where these breeding grounds are because Voldemort is keeping a lot of things to himself these days. He is also working on some sort of project with the carcasses of these creatures, but I do not know whether or not this bears any connection to his experiments in reanimation. I cannot ask too many questions or they will get suspicious. So, unfortunately, there is nothing more I can tell you at this point. I will, of course, continue to watch and listen, and if I find out anything more about this, I will tell you as soon as I am able.

"Now then, returning to the matter of Azkaban." and Snape reluctantly returned his cold black gaze to the veteran Auror beside him, "Assuming there are no reanimated creatures in the attack force, the one advantage you will have, Auror, is that other than the Dementors on the ground, the Dark Lord's attack will be completely aerial. He intends to move in swiftly, attack with brute force, secure Azkaban, and take over before the defenders have time to respond with any effectiveness. Or, if things go less favorably, he intends to at least free the prisoners and kill as many of your people as possible. He is hoping for a quick battle. If the fight is prolonged and his losses are heavy, he may be forced to retreat early or risk losing the entire attack force."

"And will you be with the Dark Lord's army, then, Phoenix?" Hyran asked, his tone cold.

Snape dipped his masked head once in solemn assent. "Most assuredly, my friend and foe. I go wherever Lord Voldemort commands me to go, regardless of my own wishes, and regardless of the danger. I have no choice."

"We discussed this matter earlier, Doc," Dumbledore said before Hyran could make a scathing retort.

Hyran stared at Snape for several tense seconds, and he rubbed his rugged jaw line in quiet contemplation. Finally he said, "Frankly, I don't like you, Black Phoenix, and I personally don't trust you as far as I can throw a flaming quill. But...Albus has assured me that there is more to you than meets the eye and that your word is reliable. And his word carries great weight with me.

"So against my better judgment, I will order my people to spare your life if you should happen to meet one of them in the coming battle. Speak your codename to any auror loyal to me, and I guarantee that they will let you go. They may not trust you any more than I do, but they have the utmost respect for my orders, and they will obey. However, my masked friend and foe, they will only stay their hands if they can hear you. I can't guarantee that they won't try to kill you before you get within shouting distance.

"And I can only speak for the aerial forces, those under my direct control. I cannot speak for the ground forces that will almost certainly be brought in once I go to the Azkaban Oversight Committee with your information. I don't trust those whose loyalty is to the institution of the Ministry rather than to its ideals. I have decided not to tell them about you. I figure, the fewer people who know about you, the less likely it will get back to Voldemort."

Snape nodded silently in assent. "Too many people know about me already, if you want my opinion," he said venomously while giving Dumbledore a scathing glare. "But your concern is noted and appreciated."

"And by the way, Mr. Phoenix, if you go down over land, you are on your own. My people won't be able to help you, and I can guarantee you that the regular Azkaban defense contingent won't hold their fire if you wear that costume to the party.
"And if you go down over the North Sea, watch out for the sharks. They answer to no one but their own hunger."

Snape snorted at that but said nothing. He detested sharks almost as much as he detested flowers, but when Thursday night arrived, sharks would be the least of his concerns.

Dumbledore nodded at the auror, his expression grave. "Understood, Doc. And thank you, both of you, for taking the time to meet here in person. I wish that we could meet like this under different circumstances."

"So do I," said the auror. "So do I."

So do I, Snape thought testily, but you don't hear me whining about it.

"I wish you the best of luck in the coming battle." The headmaster stood and extended his hand, which Hyran grasped with both hands. And there were tears in the old headmaster's eyes. "Take care of yourself my friend. I expect for you to come back and visit me in a few years with a whole new collection of war stories to tell."

"And the best to you, Albus," Hyran said. "You are our most powerful defense against the darkness, and the one person who can hold our alliance together. I only hope ... that your trust in some of your ... less reputable allies is not misplaced." He cast another dark look at Snape.

"I hate to disappoint you, oh reputable defender of the public, but I do not intend to be shark food," Snape said acidly. "However much I might be tempted to, I will not try to kill you if I see you in the skies over Azkaban. Be forewarned, however, that I do intend to defend myself against any attackers, with lethal force if necessary."

Hyran merely glowered at the masked potions master a moment longer before striding out of the door.

Dumbledore stared at Snape for a long moment. "Well, that could have gone better."

Snape gave a small shrug. "It would have gone worse if I had not worn the mask. Trust me."

"Is there a story here you haven't seen fit to tell me?"

"Well, let me just say that it is a very good thing that he did not remember my voice."

Dumbledore gave a long sigh and stared sadly at Snape. "I wish you would reconsider going with them," he said softly. "It will not go well for Voldemort's side. You know that."

Snape shrugged with resignation. "I know, Albus. Believe me, I appreciate more than you can imagine how much danger I will be in. But I told you before, as I told your friend, I have no choice. If I don't go, I'll be out. I will never be able to go to another meeting."

"Yes, and perhaps that would not be such a bad thing, Severus," Dumbledore said. "I don't like how you've changed since you started going back to his meetings."

"He kills deserters without pity and without hesitation, Albus. Karkaroff is alive only because he keeps moving faster than Voldemort can catch up with him. Would you have me live the same way? Constantly on the run? Always looking over my shoulder? Always wondering when and where and how he is going to catch up with me and kill me?"

"You are safe as long as you stay here."

"Am I? Albus, he may not be able to Apparate me to his side as long as I stay on the grounds, but you and I both know that 'safe' is a relative term where His Unnamed Lordship is concerned. Or have you forgotten about the basilisk, the mountain troll, the Dementors, the fake Moody..."

"All right, you have made your point. There have been security lapses in the past, and the possibility of more such lapses in the future does indeed exist, despite our best efforts to keep this school a safe place for all who come here for refuge. Nevertheless, I maintain that it is now time for you to get out. Even if you survive the coming battle..."

"He will know that someone close to him betrayed him, and he may begin to suspect me, yes, I know. Do you think me a fool?"

"No, of course not! But I think that you are unwise to continue with this charade. I sense that he has changed, grown more cunning and more dangerous, and that you are in far more danger now than you were fifteen years ago." The older wizard looked away toward the ashes in the fireplace, regret etched into his wrinkled features. "I wish I hadn't asked you to go back to him."

"How else would we have found out about this?" Snape pointed out angrily. "You know that it is impossible to spy on him any other way! We have tried!"

"Yes, but..."

"Would you rather have Voldemort take over Azkaban and have an instant army of its former inhabitants at his command before we are fully prepared to stand up to him?"

"I don't know. I can't say as yet which choice would have been worse. I do not claim to be clairvoyant. I do not know what the future holds in store for us, but I find myself wondering more and more with each passing day what price you will have to pay someday for this information."

"Nothing comes without a price. Years ago I thought that I had paid a high enough price for freedom from his cruel hand... But for all that was lost... all we received in return was a fifteen-year reprieve."

"We'll find a way."

"She was worth more than fifteen years, damn it."

"Severus?"

"What."

"You may remove the mask now. It is safe to do so. Hyran has already left the castle, and I doubt that he will back again for a great many months ... if he ever does come back."

Snape sat motionless for a very long time, while Dumbledore stroked his beard and thought rather reluctantly that Snape was right. It seemed that there never was an end to the war against the darkness. And yet, he could not help but hope... there had to be a way to put a stop to Voldemort's evil once and for all.

Finally, slowly -- almost reluctantly -- the potions master pulled off his white Death Eater mask.

"Is it safe? Is it ever truly safe to remove the mask?" Snape queried in a low, bitter voice. "What does it matter anymore?" He slipped off his black cloak, folded it over one arm and hid the mask underneath it. While most of the faculty knew about his spying activities, the students did not, and it would be better if they continued not to know. He turned and swiftly strode out of Dumbledore's office, leaving the headmaster alone with a hundred fears and forebodings.

He's losing hope, Dumbledore observed sadly. Am I going to lose him? Either to a battle, or to Voldemort's power? I can do nothing to protect him when he goes out there. I can't even send Sirius this time. And the only one who could protect him....

Dumbledore sighed. The only one who could protect him wasn't ready to assume that responsibility yet. And time was running out even faster than Dumbledore had feared.

For Filch had come to his office last night with a disturbing message.

"Severus has started brewing Necroimperium Incense again, 'eadmaster. So far it's been late, very late like three in the mornin' or so, and it ain't every night. He don't know that I know, but yeh can't hide the odor, and I got a good sniffer. It's about the only part of me that ain't all worn out. I ain't said anythin' to 'im about it yet. Wanted to know whether yeh think I should. But yeh know what this means..."

End of Chapter 6