Fifteen minutes later Dumbledore was still standing in the doorway of the dungeon, one hand thoughtfully stroking his long, bushy white beard when Snape finally looked up.

"What do you want?" the Potions master snapped testily and then went back to scribbling as if Dumbledore's presence were an unwanted interruption. The headmaster said nothing for a moment, merely continued stroking his beard and looking thoughtful.

"If you have come to gloat, save it," Snape continued acidly, his eyes not leaving his work. "And if you have come for my resignation, then you'll have to wait a while until I get around to it. I have some notes I wish to leave to my successor first."

Dumbledore stared at Snape, a mixture of pity and regret on his face. The beard-stroking stopped. "I thought we had known each other long enough by now that you would have learned to think more highly of me, Severus," the headmaster said with a note of disappointment. "Since I've come to respect you, in spite of your past." he added.

"Yes, Albus, you think so highly of me that you refuse to let me do the work I've always wanted to do here," Snape said bitterly, his quill scraping quick, harsh indentations into the surface of the scroll.

"You know very well why you've never been given the job," Dumbledore replied mildly.

"Oh yes," Snape hissed nastily, his quill pausing momentarily while he pinned the elder wizard with a glare. "I might accidentally have killed a student or two by now instead of merely sending another professor to the hospital wing."

"That's not why, Severus, and you know it. You and I both know -- especially in light of recent events outside -- what would happen if the students and their parents found out about your secret, and I don't see how you could teach the class without it coming out eventually. I was as concerned for your protection as for the students'. I had hoped that you would come to realize that and trust my judgment."

"Maybe I don't need your protection. Maybe you should start trusting my judgment once in a while. Or do I need to remind you that your infinite wisdom on matters of magical education has cost us the life of one Defense teacher, obliterated the mind of another, and has put the students behind in their studies at a time when they can least afford it!"

"You don't have to remind me about my mistakes. I am only trying to do what is best for everyone," Dumbledore replied softly.

"Well stop it. I don't need your protection or anyone else's for that matter. I can get by just fine on my own! Durmstrang Institute offered me a position last year, and I turned them down. I told them I was content to stay here. Now I'm writing them to tell them that I've reconsidered their offer, and I'm willing to accept if they still want me. I'm sure they won't have a problem with my past!"

Dumbledore's eyes widened with surprise and horror. Durmstrang had produced some of the worst dark wizards before Voldemort and Grindelwald. "You don't mean that Severus!"

"I do," Snape stated coldly.

"But that's one of the worst places you could go, with all that's been happening lately! You have heard the reports from Jerald Krum. You probably wouldn't even make it there alive since you would have to leave the safety of Hogwarts to Apperate -- and even if you did make it, you wouldn't stay alive there for very long. Every wizard with any scrap of decency abandoned that place during Voldemort's rise to power twenty years ago. Since he has returned, that school is almost certainly crawling with his spies today. You know that I have my reservations about Headmaster Adlar's assurances.…"

"Things have changed since those days, Albus. Bulgaria is not like it used to be. And I have friends there."

"Severus, please reconsider. We need you here."

"Oh yes, so I can drug myself into insensibility and lock myself in a coffin everytime the Great Lord Voldemort calls."

"Please for once in your life stop the sarcasm and listen to me. You more than anyone else here know what is happening out in the world, despite the Ministry's attempts to cover up the truth and reassure everyone. You better than anyone else know that very soon we are going to need all the good wizards we can get on our side."

"You'll manage without me. In fact, you'll probably be better off without me."

"We almost didn't last time, if you recall. Without your covert help, I doubt very much that...."

"Things change. You have Harry Potter now. And Aurellia Deveroux. And I'm ... not very useful anymore."

"But we still need you. You know what Sibyll Trelawney said. She was almost certainly referring to you."

"She's a windbag with an overactive imagination. She's almost always wrong, and even when she's right, it's because of pure luck or creativity in interpreting her prophecies. Divination is a discipline for con-wizards and the easily fooled. I've always said so."

"All right, I'll respect your opinion, even if I disagree with it. But I can't help wondering if perhaps this is a case of the wizard protesting a little too much."

"So, Albus, you want me to stay because you think you're going to lose the war with the dark wizards otherwise, and because you're among the easily fooled who believe in Trelawney, and because you think the other Death Eaters are going to kill me the minute I try to leave. But I wonder, after what happened here today ... If it weren't for Voldemort's return, would you still urge me to stay?"

"Of course I would. I have always believed that you belong here at Hogwarts, not at Durmstrang. You're not one of them."

"I'm not one of you either. Today was proof enough of that."

"I did not come here to argue with you, Severus. Nor did I come to recruit you or to talk you out of resigning. I came to apologize. So please allow me to at least do that, and then I'll leave you alone to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life. If you truly want to leave Hogwarts, I won't stand in your way. I promised you that a long time ago. I stood by that promise then, and I do now even though I am very much regretting having made it."

"Apologize? For what? For being right about Voldemort back then? For being right about the Defense class now? I have a better idea. Keep your apology. I don't need it."

Dumbledore sighed. "I knew you weren't going to like this, but at least let me say my part before you decide not to accept my apology."

Snape shrugged and returned to his writing. He pretended that he couldn't have cared less what the headmaster had to say, but it appeared to Dumbledore that he was still listening, albeit rather reluctantly.

"I should have told you about Aurellia when I hired her."

Snape's quill hesitated, and his hand shook ever so slightly at the mention of the Defense teacher's name. But he stubbornly refused to look up from his work.

Undaunted, the headmaster continued. "As it was when I offered you this position and an olive branch, shortly after you graduated, so I had also given my word to Aurellia that I would not tell anyone about her ancestry. In fact, it was I who advised her not to talk about it, in case word should get back to Voldemort. I encouraged the rumors that she was a Muggle-born witch, since she looks human. Luk altered his and Aurellia’s features so they wouldn’t look elven. In truth, she and her cousin were adopted by a Muggle couple, the Deverouxs, after their own families were killed when Death Eaters attacked their village."

Snape winced at that statement.

Dumbledore continued after giving the Potions master a sympathetic glance. "I never dreamed that keeping her true nature a secret could ever be harmful to her, and so I have, by my silence, put you in a terrible position. For that I am sorry, and I hope that you will understand."

"I understand perfectly well," Snape muttered grudgingly. "And I wish that I didn't."

"So you know that the reason your spell nearly killed Aurellia was because she's an elf?"

"Yes I know what she is. I sent that information to Madam Pomfrey, remember? And I'll never forgive you for not telling me sooner, because I almost killed her, and because I had almost hoped that ... well, it is of no consequence now. Give her my ... regrets. And ask her when she recovers to forgive me, if she can."

"I think that it would be more meaningful if you asked her."

"No, I can't. I won't be here by then. Tomorrow morning you will find my resignation on your desk and everything in order here."

"But you don't even know if you have a job at Durmstrang yet! And where will you go in the meantime?"

"I don't know. I'll just Apparate...somewhere...and lie low for a while."

"But it is suicide for you to leave the grounds right now, when you don't know whether or not they are out there waiting for you. And if you try to run, he'll eventually find you no matter where you go. This is the only place where he can't get to you."

"It's not suicide if you take a few of them with you. Maybe that's what Trelawney's prophecy was all about, if you insist on believing in such things."

"So, you're serious about leaving?"

"Yes, and the sooner the better."

"And I can't talk you out of this?"

"No, Albus, there is nothing more you can do. You made a mistake, and I have made a great many mistakes, and it has all led to this. I can't stay here after what has happened. Do you know why I cast that spell? I started to lose control during the duel, and I thought that by disarming her temporarily it would give us both a few minutes to rest, to cool off, and call a truce. But instead I almost killed her. I can't bear to face her again. So I am going."

"Then I guess this is goodbye?"

Snape looked hesitant for a moment, then determined. "Yes...it is. I will miss ... well, at least you need not worry about me going back to him, not willingly that is. I've been down that road a little too far in the past several months for my own liking, and I'll never set foot on it again. I have managed to burn several bridges rather thoroughly of late. I told you I was going to fall off the tightrope sooner or later, and now it has happened."

Dumbledore stepped around the desk and put a hand on the Potions master's shoulder. In a kindly tone he said, "Take care of youself, and send an owl whenever you can arrange it so that I don't have to send Sirius after you."

Snape looked away quickly, shrugged off the hand, and snatched up a scroll on his desk. "Speaking of owls, I would appreciate it if you would take this to the owlery for me and send one of the school's owls," he said matter-of-factly as he carefully sealed the scroll with a magical wax that he had formulated. "Hagrid found Rasputin dead outside the main gate about a month ago, and I have not had a chance to replace him."

"I did not hear of this!"

"I threatened Hagrid with dire consequences to keep quiet about it. I knew you would worry."

Dumbledore blanched. "You should not leave tonight, Severus. Wait a week or two. At least give me time to send for some of Hagrid's friends and any aurors Hyran can spare."

"No. I'm leaving tonight with or without your approval. If you will send the owl for me, it will save me time, but if not, I'll do it myself. I don't care. I will still depart before dawn, even if I have to leave some things unfinished."

Watching Snape's resolve harden even as he spoke, Dumbledore knew that it was time to conceed defeat. There was indeed nothing more he could do at this point. "All right," he consented. "I'll send the owl, but do not leave before I return. There is something I want to give you that may help you through the night."

Snape waved a hand in dismissal and went back to his writing. The stiffness in his posture told Dumbledore that he had stopped listening. There was no getting through to him now.

Albus Dumbledore left the dungeon in low spirits, the weight of every one of his 150 years lying heavily on him. The news about Rasputin was very grave indeed. It meant that Hogwarts was being very closely watched by the enemy, and that in all likelihood Snape was as good as dead or captured if he crossed the boundary of the various powerful wards around the school grounds. And yet Dumbledore had hope ... for there was one person in all of Hogwarts who might still be able to talk some sense into the stubborn, troll-headed wizard.

Instead of the owlery Dumbledore headed swiftly toward the infirmary.

****

Dumbledore easily managed to tiptoe past Madam Pomfrey (who was snoring softly in her rocker near a first-year with a bad case of bubblypox) and quietly entered Aurellia’s room.

He found her fast asleep on her cot. Sighing with regret, he went to her side and gently shook her shoulder.

Aurellia woke up immediately and looked up to see the kindly old wizard gazing down at her with a somber, concerned expression on his face and a finger on his lips.

"Dumbledore," she whispered weakly. "What's wrong?"

"Shh ... Severus is planning on leaving Hogwarts. Tonight." Dumbledore whispered back.

Deveroux's eyes widened. "Leaving? Well! Good riddance!"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down ... Madam Pomfrey doesn't know I'm here, and would have my hide if she knew I had awakened you. But this is urgent. I ...."

Dumbledore paused and sighed. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the argument that was certain to come. "I was hoping you would talk to him ... if you're feeling up to it," he stated.

"What?!" Deveroux interrupted, trying to keep her voice low and failing. She sat upright.

"...because you're the only one who can reach him right now," Dumbledore finished. "He won't listen to me. I tried every argument I could think of to get him to change his mind. I even tried to apologize...."

"Apologize? Why? You have nothing to apologize to him about. And what makes you think that troll-headed fool will listen to me? You're the only one around here he respects, if indeed that arrogant twit respects anyone. If he won't listen to you, why on earth do you think he would ever listen to me?"

"Aurellia you don't know...."

"He is completely insufferable!" Aurellia continued, ignoring Dumbledore's feeble attempt to stop the tirade before it really got going. She fell back onto the pillows with a soft thump. "He constantly calls me 'little girl' and 'child' and other demeaning terms! He treats me even worse than he treats his students, and you know full well how mean and condescending he is to them! I swear if I had met him before you got me to agree to this whole 'Watching' charade, I would have gone back to the forest and spent the rest of my life hiding in the biggest oak I could find and Watching ants crawl up and down the trunk!"

"Shh...Please, Aurellia, I can't have Madam Pomfrey chasing me out of here before I say what I came to say."

"Why don't you just put a spell on her to make her stay asleep?"

"That would be a wonderful solution, if she weren't already wise to that tactic since it has been done several times before..."

"Oh..." said the elf, somewhat abashed.

"As I was saying, I came to you because you are probably my last hope of convincing him not to leave, and I know that you don't believe me, but please try. Severus feels bad ... no, he is agonizing ... about what he did to you. It was only an accident, but he's taking it very hard. You must realize that he had no idea ..."

"Of course I realize that!" Aurellia said, more sharply than she had intended. "You were the one who recommended I not say anything about my past, in case someone loyal to Voldemort would overhear, and I agreed. So how could he have known what that draining spell would do? I don't blame him for that. How could I? The spell wasn't his fault. But that doesn't change the fact that he's a tempermental, petty, judgmental, mean-spirited, vindictive ...."

"I am at least twenty years more aware of his faults than you are."

"Then why do you want him to stay? He's dangerous, Albus. If he doesn't get himself killed, then sooner or later he's going to kill somebody else! That man is a powder keg looking for a fire wand. One of these days, his temper will get the better of him--again--and the next time things will go even worse for his victim than they have for me," and Deveroux's expression turned hard. "You weren't there during the duel. I was. I noticed some things that I would not mention to anyone else but you. I detest him, but I don't want to be the instrument of his lynching by mobs of angry parents."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, and adopted a serious expression. Aurellia got a sneaking suspicion that somehow he already knew what she was going to say. But she continued on, and kept the thought to herself.

"The students have probably already told you that we started off with a formal, civilized demonstration, and then somehow things got out of hand, and we ended up in this awful, terrifying mort-de-kai. He started stacking multiple spells without giving me a chance to recover in between. And then he started throwing Gravity Traps, and Time Warps, and Inferno Walls, and Meteor Showers, and Demon Summons, and Violet Ion Storms, and other heavy-duty X-class stuff. I'm talking about spells that only fairyfolk, aurors and Death Eaters, and maybe some dragonslayers and first-class wizards such as yourself know how to cast--much less defend against. It was scary, Dumbledore. I not only had to protect myself, I had to protect the kids too. If I had been an ordinary human witch there's no way I could have done it! He had no business casting some of those spells around the students! Aside from the fact that they should never have witnessed that sort of magic until they're older, they could have been seriously injured! I'm just glad it stopped when it did."

"You don't need to tell me about Snape's temper," Dumbledore said sternly. "I know all about it. What you haven't told me, however, is why you retaliated with the same sort of spells."

Aurellia looked flabbergasted. "How could you ...? I mean, I most certainly did not!"

"You needn't have worried about the safety of the students, Aurellia," Dumbledore reassured. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom has many wards and safety enchantments on it, because of the nature of some of the lessons that must be taught in it. Although I don't think Hogwarts' founders quite had a mort-de-kai between a high elf and an ex-Death Eater in mind when they built the school.

"But it may give you some comfort to know that very little goes on in Hogwarts that I do not know about. I had a feeling that in spite of my stern warnings you two were going to get into a duel sooner or later, and I suspected that the duel might get a little heated. That's why I was watching and helping you protect the students the whole time. Needless to say, you are wrong to assume that I don't know precisely what happened today.

"Some of the other instructors were strongly suggesting that you two--note I say you two, not just Professor Snape--be packed up and shipped off to opposite sides of the planet after what happened today, but I managed to talk them into letting you both off with a stern reprimand and a two-week restraining order. I haven't received an owl yet from the Board of Governors, and I am dreading it more than you can imagine. They are already rather displeased with me over a number of incidents which have happened here over the past few years. At any rate, consider this your 'stern reprimand' and don't let me hear another word about how this whole thing is all Severus' fault.

"And by the way, I think that's why his temper angers you so. Yours is just as bad, only perhaps a little harder to provoke."

Aurellia started to splutter a protest, but the headmaster held up a hand and continued.

"And then there is the matter of your two egos... I know you don't believe this, but I think, in his own way, Severus was trying to impress you."

"Yeah, he almost killed me. That really impressed me," Aurellia groused.

But the elder wizard ignored the remark and continued as if she hadn't said a thing.

"After all, you have humiliated him and beaten him almost every single time you two have clashed. I'll admit that he got a little out of control during the duel, but so did you. I think that the reason he cast the draining spell was that he realized things were getting out of hand, but he didn't want to be humiliated again. So instead of surrendering, he tried to put a stop to the whole thing with what he thought was a harmless spell. You should have seen his face when he thought he'd killed you. I did, you know."

With conviction the elder wizard concluded, "I don't believe that Severus would ever purposely try to kill anyone, not unless it was necessary. I would trust him with my life. In fact, I have several times in the past ...."

Aurellia looked skeptical, but decided not to remind him about the Gravity Trap since that also would involve explaining the Shimmering Veil and the Exploding Screamer. "I admire your confidence in him as a friend, and as long as I am teaching here I have to respect your judgment as headmaster. But that doesn't mean I share in it. He trusts no one, and that makes him very dangerous and unpredictable. And before you start on me again, remember that I'm not the one who lost control in that duel."

The elderly wizard said nothing, and Aurellia looked away. Dumbledore didn't need to remind her that it was Snape, not Deveroux, who finally tried to stop the duel.

Aurellia shook her head in frustration. "Why did you really want me to come here, anyway? If anyone needs protection it's Voldemort's people! I'll bet Snape could probably take on at least three of them simultaneously and not even break a sweat."

Dumbledore hid a grin and said nothing of what he was thinking about how Severus apparently had impressed Aurellia in spite of her protests to the contrary.

"Remember how you wanted me to try to talk with him, open him up, at the Quidditch match? A complete failure! It was like trying to crack open a dragon egg with my bare hands!" Aurellia complained. "Why did you ask me to do something so hopelessly impossible? Since you've pointed out my faults, yours is that you expect the most impossible miracles from everyone around you."

"Some would not consider that a fault, Aurellia," Dumbledore remarked quietly. "And I think part of the reason you have had such a hard time, is that you, my dear, were afraid to open up to him. I've heard that in the Muggle world there is this common saying about a two-way street."

Aurellia frowned but said nothing.

"I brought you here to teach the students and to help protect Professor Snape, as I said before. However, as you have discerned, there is more to it than that. My hope was not only that he would open up to someone, but that you would open up to someone as well. Of all the ways a wizard or witch can die, perhaps the cruelest and subtlest form of death is that of loneliness. Many of Voldmort's followers were lured to his cause with the promise of power as a cure for loneliness. And before you say that I have no room to talk -- never having married in 150 years -- might I simply state that not all who are single are lonely, for in serving and caring for others I have found the greatest antidote to many of the ills of the soul. I am sure that this applies to the world of non-magic users as well as it does to our kind. As for your efforts up to the present time being a complete and total failure, I am greatly inclined to disagree."

Deveroux "hrmph"ed and folded her arms across her chest.

"Now don't rant about Snape's stubbornness and then proceed to put on your own stunning display of troll-headed behavior. I was actually watching you two at the Quidditch match even though you thought I was watching the game. I listened to you, when you opened up slightly, about your cousin ... and I saw something that I am quite sure will amaze you."

Deveroux stared hard at the older wizard, uncertain and a little afraid of what he was about to say next. She just had a feeling she wasn't going to like it one bit!

"He started to reach out his hand to touch you, and then he stopped. It was but the smallest gesture, a blink of an eye and you would have...and did...miss it. But it made me think that there was hope after all. I can't remember the last time he ever made a move to comfort someone else. He's received so little comfort from others in his life, that it doesn't come naturally to him. He keeps a lot bottled up like you, and like you he is caught between two conflicting worlds each demanding very contradictory things from him. And very often he feels unable to cope with the demands of either, much less both. And to make matters worse, he has had to bear his burdens alone, because he has never learned how to ask anyone for help or to accept comfort from anyone. To my knowledge he has never opened up to anyone, even to me, though I tried very hard to be a mentor to him ever since he first came to the halls of Hogwarts. He has seen and done many terrible things, and lived through some of the darkest years in wizarding history. He has been used, cheated, manipulated, hurt, and abandoned by the people who were supposed to protect him and nurture him. So judge him not for the person he is, but for the person he could become in spite of the fact that he doesn't quite know yet how to get from here to there."

"Um... that's all very insightful... but I think you are reading too much into the fact that his nose probably itched or something."

"No, I don't think so. From where I was sitting I could see quite plainly that he meant to touch you ... but I think that he was afraid of your reaction. And to tell you the truth, I can't fault him there. You haven't exactly given him reason not to think that you would react by breaking his wand over his head or worse.

"I suspect that he insults you because he's afraid of you. I've noticed that he practically leaves Harry Potter alone these days, because compared to our resident Gryffindor prodigy, you intimidate him infinitely more. And why is he afraid of you, other than the fact that you could probably even scare off Voldemort with a few choice words?"

"Please do enlighten me. I'd like to know so that I can practice more of whatever it is on him."

"Um... you might want to reserve judgment until you hear what I have to say...."

He paused dramatically and stroked his beard. Aurellia waited with anticipation, then impatience, and finally burst out, "Well????"

"Hmm... I don't know if it is my place to tell you," Dumbledore concluded to Aurellia's complete outrage. "Maybe that is something better left between you and him."

"Oh no you don't. You're not going to get me to go down to that dungeon and talk to him by playing cryptic on me. You may be the master of analyzing people, but I've been watching you too, and I know how manipulative you can be when you are trying to motivate people to do what you think is best for them."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I don't manipulate anyone," he protested gently. "I merely try to get people to understand things so that when they make choices that will affect them for the rest of their lives, they will make them wisely."

"If you say so," Aurellia conceeded without conviction. "But I'm not budging from this ward until you quit dodging the issue and tell my why you think Snape is afraid of me."

"Very well," Dumbledore conceeded. "Think of Severus as the typical loner-type adolescent boy who got old but never quite grew up... and never learned how to have a stable relationship with anyone. He can't even get along with himself."

"The typical loner-type adolescent..." Deveroux repeated skeptically, but Dumbledore was encouraged, for her expression had softened, and even in the dim light of the recovery ward, he could see a hint of pity reflected in her eyes.

"Yes," the elder wizard continued. "Very much like an adolescent faced with a lovely, intelligent young lady he likes and respects, but doesn't know quite how ..."

"Whoa! Wait a minute," Deveroux cut in, holding out her hand as if to stop his flow of words. "Hold on! That is absolute nonsense. Snape hates me, remember? How did we get from talking about what a jerk he is to how he's this lost, confused, infatuated adult-teenager-with-an-attitude-problem?"

"Now who's dodging the issue?" Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "Why else would the Slytherin headmaster come to a Quidditch game that his house team isn't involved in? Did you know that unless his team is playing, or he suspects there might be foul play during the match, Severus never attends a Quidditch match? In fact, if Gryffindor hadn't been playing against Slytherin that day when Professor Quirrel cursed Harry's broom, things probably would have turned out very badly for Harry -- Snape would not have known what was going on and would not have been able to hold Quirrel back. Which brings me to another point I would like to make, and that is that you never know when someone's presence -- or absence -- from a certain place at a certain time, could change the course of history. I like to think that there is a reason why we find ourselves where we are and with the people we are close to. And that is one of many reasons why I think that Severus belongs here ... and you as well."

"Well it just so happens that I believe in luck, mostly of the bad variety, since I seem to have had a disproportionate amount of it in my life. And I very much doubt that my refusal to go talk to that troll-headed fool -- excuse me, I mean lost, confused, lonely adolescent -- will really make all that big of a difference in the grand scheme of things. If the arrogant creep wants to leave, I say let him leave."

"But don't you see that he doesn't want to leave? He's running away because he thinks that there's no other alternative. He thinks that you hate him, and he wants you to forgive him, but he can't tell you that because he's afraid. He's afraid of what you'll do if he ever tells you about how he really feels about you. Didn't you ever wonder why he was always looking in on your classes whenever he had a free moment?"

"Because he gets a thrill out of spying on people? Because he was tired of picking on Harry Potter and wanted somebody new to torment for a change? Because he's a creep? Any of those theories sound better and more plausible than yours."

"I don't know, Aurellia, what you perceive as him being annoying ... it's rather sweet, if you look at it from a different perspective. And it sounds to me like Severus is not the only one who is afraid to face his feelings...."

"Oh, enough of this!" Deveroux said, her voice firm. "If Madam Pomfrey doesn't wake up, soon, I'll wake her myself! And as exasperating as you are being tonight, Mister Matchmaker, you deserve whatever punishment she metes out when she catches you in here pestering us sick, and injured, and helpless patients!"

"Methinks the lady doeth protest too much," Dumbledore teased.

"I thought wizards didn't like Muggle literature."

"Oh, I happen to have a very wide variety of interests in literature, and in 150 years I've managed to find some time to kill. I happen to believe that Shakespeare is one of the finest Muggle writers that ever lived. He would have made a great wizard."

"He would have made a better elf."

"Touche. I do believe that I have met my match in wit and dry humor."

"Did I ever tell you that I once won a first place award at the national level in the All-American Intercollegiate Debate Competition my senior year at Akron U?"

"Many times."

"I was being sarcastic."

"Oh you've been that many times too."

"Now you're getting ridiculous. If I agree to try to talk Snape out of leaving, will you go away and let a poor wounded elf have some peace and quiet?"

"Yes, but before you do, I want to encourage you to remember what I said and go easy on him. If you get into an argument with him tonight, then he'll leave for sure, and I doubt that we'll ever see him alive again."

Aurellia stared at the older wizard in wide-eyed amazement. "You are that worried about him, aren't you? I thought ... I thought you were just being over-protective, like you are with your students, like you are with me, but something's changed hasn't it?"

"Remember what I said about the choices you make, and how they can affect everyone around you in ways that you may not realize."

"Okay, okay, point made. I'm very tired, so let's get this over with. The question, is ..."

"Ask away..."

"How am I going to get down there to talk to him? I ... I'm not sure I would make it down all of those stairs and the hallways. I still feel like I've been through a Quidditch double-header with a dozen rabid bludgers and accompanying ruthless Slytherins."

"Hmm ... there is something to be said for Professor Snape's teaching ability if you've learned that much about Quidditch in the short time you've been here.

"As for your means of transportation, that's why I brought this ..." and Dumbledore raised his wand, and spoke an incantation too soft for Deveroux to hear. In floated a padded chair with mahogany armrests. "Professor Flitwick specializes in these ... his younger brother runs a business making these for wizards and witches who have difficulty getting around on their own."

"Every day, this place amazes me more and more," Deveroux said, impressed.

Dumbledore helped the frail professor into the chair, which had come to rest on the ground. He tried to keep his expression mild, but he was very worried. He did not like the cold clamminess of Deveroux's skin, the raspy sound of her voice. Elves, according to Snape's sketchy information, had remarkable healing capabilities when given proper care and rest, but their systems were also easily overtaxed by things like draining spells, and conflict, and stress.

Dumbledore put those thoughts out of his head. I have no choice, he told himself firmly. There is a far greater likelihood that she will recover after this than there is that he will survive the night if he leaves.

The two snuck out past the still dozing Pomfrey, and proceeded down to the dungeon area, where Snape was still busy making preparations for his departure ... hopefully.

"I will go down the hall with you as far as I dare," Dumbledore whispered. "I don't want him to think I'm eavesdropping."

"But you will be eavesdropping. Admit it, Dumbledore."

"Well...maybe a little, but it's only for his own good."

Deveroux laughed. "The students are right. You really can be a nosy old mother hen sometimes."

After what seemed like an eternity ... for Dumbledore worried every step of the way that Snape may have already fled, and Deveroux was fighting incredible fatigue ... they finally reached the entrance of the hall that led to the Potions classroom and adjoining office.

"I will wait here," Dumbledore said, "since you will need my help getting back. Thank you for doing this... and I hope that you have better luck than I did."

Deveroux nodded again and, with Dumbledore's assistance, got up from the chair. She gave the older wizard a small smile before turning down the dark hallway, towards Snape's office.

"You owe me big time, Dumbledore," she whispered.

****

Snape was finishing up his final scrolls. After quilling a few more notes, he capped his ink jar, placed the pen in his desk and rolled up the pieces of parchment. He applied magic sealing wax to the edges, and placed the rolls in another drawer. He grabbed three books and a couple more scrolls off of his desk. Then he reached for his travelling cloak, which lay across his cabinet, tossed it over his arm, and started for the door. But when he reached the doorway, he very nearly collided with Deveroux, who was coming the other way, and whose total concentration was going into keeping her balance and putting one foot in front of the other.

Snape jumped back like a black cat who'd just had a very close brush with a cerberus, and dropped everything he was carrying, much to the weary Defense teacher's amusement.

Aurellia Deveroux stood at the entrance of Snape's office, leaning against the frame for support, but she still stood up straight, and she gazed at him with those piercing blue eyes.

"You should see your face," she remarked drily. "I think it even tops the flower incident -- the first flower incident, that is."

Snape hadn't seen the Defense teacher since the ill-fated duel earlier that morning. After he had cancelled his classes for the rest of the day, he had chosen the infirmary over the library. When he had arrived demanding that they let him see her, they'd knocked him out before he even got past the main entrance. Much as he had suspected, his presence was not welcome there in the least, and all that Madam Pomfrey's staff would tell him when he woke up an hour later, charmed and ointmented from head to toe, was that Aurellia was still alive -- no thanks to him and the almost worthless bit of information he'd been able to find about elves. And then he had rather brusquely been ordered to leave and get some rest until they sent for him.

Thus it was that her appearance was a shocking change from what it had been when he had last seen her during the duel. Her skin was tinged with grey, and her lips were a nearly bloodless white. Her hair, which usually seemed to reflect even the faintest light, was flat and dull, like straw. The white hospital robe she wore added to the effect of her pallor.

I did this, he thought guiltily.

Her eyes, though, were unchanged. Despite her infirmity, her eyes still had that spark, Snape noted. Her eyes were the one thing that never seemed to change about her, except for that horrific moment when the draining spell hit, and terror filled them, and then the life seemed to seep right out of them....

"Aurel ... Professor Deveroux ...I...."

"Save it, Snape," Aurellia cut in, testily. She walked into his office and sank into one of the wooden chairs in front of his desk. "Did you know that Hogwarts has 142 constantly moving staircases, and that I think I've toured almost every single one of them tonight? I have come a very long way to meet you here on your turf -- in your place of power that is, if you prefer the non-Muggle expression. I've come much farther than you might think...." she trailed off thoughtfully for a moment.

"And I am very tired," she concluded flatly. "So how about if I talk and you listen and we get this over with quickly so that I can go back to sleep for a nice long century or two?"

Snape remained standing, still in a bit of shock. "What are you doing down here?" he asked. "Does Madam Pomfrey ...?"

"Use your head, Snape, do you think I would even be here if she did? You know, now that you mention it she's going to be furious when she does find out I came all the way down here. But maybe you can give me a little something to take with me when I go back so that I'll be able to sleep right through her lecture, and into the next school year."

"Hmm...perhaps it would better suit you if I gave you something for Madam Pomfrey, instead," Snape said quickly, vainly attempting a bit of levity and wincing at the thudding sound of his joke falling flat on the cold stone floor of his office.

Why is it, he wondered, that everything I say and do ends up that way?

"Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself. It doesn't suit you," Aurellia said sharply, almost as if she were reading his thoughts. "I think I liked you better when you were stomping all over my pretty pink flowers and trying to ram fireballs and lightning bolts down my throat."

"I was not feeling sorry for myself!" Snape protested hotly.

"Oh really? Then what's this rumor I've been hearing about you leaving, despite the fact that Dumbledore did some quick talking and got you and me out of this incident with no more than a stern reprimand and a two-week restraining order?"

Snape closed his eyes and looked away. "Dumbledore sent you down here, didn't he? I should have known."

"Dumbledore didn't send me anywhere, you dunderhead. He told me you were leaving tonight without any escort whatsoever, and that he seems to think you're as good as throwing yourself into Voldemort's hands ... Although if you ask me, I think Voldemort would turn right around and dump you back on us and consider that revenge enough."

Snape adopted his very best we-are-not-amused expression. "I'm afraid Dumbledore wasted your time ... and I might add jeopardized your health ... for nothing. I was on my way to my quarters to pack my belongings, and I am leaving. As soon as possible. And if Voldemort tries to stop me, then he will very much regret the experience. That goes for you too, Albus, if you're listening." The Potions master hurled this last line toward the door.

"Why?" Deveroux asked. "Why are you leaving tonight?"

Snape scowled. "Do you really need to hear the answer to that?"

"Yes, I do. You owe me that much I think. But if you're going to be a troll-headed fool and not tell me, then I'll tell you instead. I think you were hoping to run away before this conversation happened."

The Potions master paused, caught off guard by her keen observation that he was, indeed, running away. But he was not running away for the reasons she thought. He was running away because he couldn't let her know, he couldn't let her figure out ... if he had recognized her eyes in that split second during the duel, then it was only a matter of time until she recognized his….

"I can't stay," he said lamely, hastily trying to think up some other reasons she might actually buy. "Not after what happened today. Every time I walk through the halls, I know the students, and even the other faculty, will look at me and see me as this cold-blooded killer, who in spite of all his promises of good intentions, can't quite give up his old Death Eater ways....And so I must go, to return to what I was, to be what they expect me to be. What I have done, no one will be able to forgive."

"Do you mean no one can forgive you for what happened? Or do you mean that you can't forgive yourself?"

Snape mentally kicked himself for his choice of words and studied her face for a second, wondering if it was already too late, wondering if she had recognized him, wondering if she knew....

He stopped himself and looked away again. There was no point in playing guessing games, he decided. He had done enough to her in that duel today, the past notwithstanding.

"I must go, and you must return to the infirmary," he stated, hoping she would get the message and leave. "It's a miracle you are even alive, much less up and moving. You should not be here."

She either didn't get the hint, or deliberately ignored it, so Snape started to leave again, as he had been intending to do for the last five minutes.

"Wait, you can't leave yet," Deveroux insisted. "I won't accept your response that my coming down here was a waste of time. If you're not going to give me a satisfactory explanation for why you're lighting out of here in the middle of the night without so much as telling your students and colleagues goodbye, then at the very least you owe me an apology, and I'm not going back to the infirmary until I get it.

"Besides, you forgot your books. And cloak. And don't look at me, because I'm not getting up out of this chair to carry your stuff. In fact, I can't even cast a Leviosa right now, so I guess you'd better get it yourself."

Snape looked down and saw his belongings laying on the ground where he had dropped them when he'd almost run into Deveroux. Muttering under his breath about how Aurellia had this extremely irritating habit of upending his life and spilling its contents all over the place, he went about picking things up.

"You forgot the kitchen sink," Aurellia quipped.

"Huh?" Snape grunted distractedly, reaching for a scroll that had somehow managed to slip under his desk. Discovering, much to his annoyance, that the scroll was just slightly out of reach, he stood and began fishing through the pockets in his robes with one hand while he set several books on the desk with the other.

"Muggle expression," Aurellia clarified. "In your case it would be the equivalent of forgetting, say, a cauldron. You high-and-mighty all-magic wizarding families really should try to learn at least a little basic Muggle."

"Unnecessary," Snape retorted, finding his wand at last. "Accio Parchment!" he commanded triumphantly, and the scroll slid even further out of reach. For Snape's outdoor cloak had shifted while he was casting the spell and slipped out of the crook of his arm. And as a result his wand had dipped when he tried to stop the cloak from slithering to the floor.

And that was when, in spite of her extreme exhaustion and her frustration with the obstinate, antipathic Potions master, Aurellia Deveroux cracked up laughing.

"Oh shut up," Snape grouched, slamming the rest of his books down on the desk. "I know you did that just to keep me here."

"But I didn't!" Deveroux protested, tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard. "I swear, I can't even charm a gnat right now, much less a cloak. You did that all by yourself, Snape, and I must say, you're quite the one-man comedy act. Step aside Weasley Wheezers, here comes the competition!"

Snape smouldered for a few moments as the elf continued to assail him with peals of laughter, until finally he couldn't help himself. He laughed too.

"You are going to drive me completely and totally insane, and probably kill us both in the process," he complained, but for once the complaint was without rancor. He suddenly realized that he was too tired for it. And somehow leaving Hogwarts tonight just seemed too much like tackling a Norwegian Ridgeback bare-handed while flying upsidedown on a hexed broom.

So instead he plunked the rest of his belongings back onto his desk, threw the obstinate cloak over the back of his chair, and sat down in resignation. He left the out-of-reach scroll lying wherever it had slid off to, deciding that it could wait until tomorrow unless Peeves found it in the meantime. Then he stuck his elbows on the desk, balled his hands into fists under his chin and stuck out his lower lip at the still-chuckling Aurellia.

"I hate you," he said.

"Well thank you for the wonderful compliment, Snape, I hate you too. But if it makes you feel any better, I promise I will never ever pick a duel with you again ... until the next time you tick me off. And by the way, those aren't exactly the magic words I was looking for -- oh, sorry, that's another Muggle expression."

"Yes," Snape spat, "I know. Unfortunately, that happens to be one of the ones I am familiar with."

"So...?" the elf girl prodded, stifling a yawn.

"So?" Snape echoed. "Oh, very well, I'm sorry about the draining spell -- there now, go away and brag to the entire castle that you just scored another point on Severus Snape because you got him to apologize for thrashing you within an inch of your life in a Defense Against the Dark Arts demonstration. Madam Pomfrey is not going to speak to me for the next sixth months over this whole thing, you know."

"Oh, I don't know," Aurellia disagreed with a mischevious grin, "I think she'll come around when I tell her that I actually wrangled an apology out of you. In fact, her own assistants will probably have to treat her for shock."

"Now who thinks they're the next Weasley?" Snape retaliated with a reluctant grin.

"Well, I guess a half-hearted apology is better than none, and it's probably the best I'm going to get out of you," Aurellia decided, yawning. "I had better keep my end of the bargain and go now before Madam Pomfrey starts turning the place upside-down looking for me. You know how it is whenever anyone disappears these days. Immediately everyone freaks out and assumes they're Voldemort-kibble."

"Voldemort-kibble?" Snape echoed, arching an eyebrow. "That's one I have never heard before, and believe me I have heard them all. You are a strange girl, Aurellia. Are you sure you're actually from this god-forsaken planet?"

"Um, Snape...?" Aurellia called, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

"Hmm?" replied the Potions master, whose thoughts had drifted very far away for a moment, back to a time when he still liked flowers....

"I need a hand."

"What do mean, you need a hand? You have two of your own," Snape grumped, returning, albeit rather reluctantly, to the present.

"Now don't turn back into a Slytherin on me just when I finally thought there might be a decent wizard somewhere under all that goblin mail. I'm serious. I can't get up. I'm going to need your help to get back to my cha... I mean back up to the infirmary."

The Potions master guffawed at the elf's little slip-up. "I don't believe it. The quicksilver wand-waving elven wonder finally admits to needing help ... and that she did not quite walk down all of those Hogwarts halls and stairwells on her own after all."

Aurellia stuck her lip out and pretended to be mortally insulted. "Shut up and help me get out of this nasty, wretched old bat cave, Snape. Please."

Snape reluctantly got up from behind his desk and walked over toward the elven girl. There was strange glimmer in his dark eyes that Aurellia had never seen before, and she thought that she might have liked it, had he been any other person on the face of the planet. Come to think of it, she was trying very hard right now to convince herself that Snape was any other person on the planet, or that she was still asleep in the infirmary dreaming this whole strange scene.

Snape held out a hand and grinned maliciously, but the malice was only for show. "You realize of course, that this little favor is going to cost you oh, about thirty grudge points."

"I'll trade you ten grudge points for fifty Gryffindor points and a walk to my chair, or no deal," Aurellia shot right back between yawns.

"Didn't I hear that a certain Defense teacher was complaining about favoritism at Hogwarts recently?"

"It's not favoritism as long as you only use it to level the playing field, and a certain Potions teacher keeps his mouth shut," Aurellia said sleepily, eyes half closed.

"Okay, you have a deal as long as you do not tell anyone that I apologized," said Snape with a grin. "Could ruin my reputation you know, and according to the rulebook that costs a lot of points."

"Fine," said Aurellia, "Whatever it takes. I'll even concede the grudge match if you want. It's so cold in here ... it's always so cold. I'm freezing. You've got a fireplace. Why don't you light it once in a while, Snape?"

The Potions master helped the elf to her feet and guided her toward the door, noticing that she was leaning more and more heavily on him for support. He thought about the fireplace comment for a moment, and again just for that moment he was transported to another time, when like the flowers, he used to like the warmth of a fireplace.

And that reminded him of things better left buried....

****

Dumbledore was snoozing down the hallway, just within earshot, snoring as loud as Remus used to when he was tanked up on Wolfsbane during a full moon.

Snape snorted. "I figured that," he muttered.

"Hmm...?" Aurellia murmured dreamily, barely conscious.

"Albus!" the Potions master called.

Dumbledore woke with a start and slowly got to his feet. He looked a little groggy Snape noticed. Apparently he had been dozing quite a while. Tsk, Dumbledore was getting lax in his old age. How many times had Snape said so, and no one listened?

"We need to get her back to the infirmary quickly," the Potions master called as Dumbledore took in the scene and came running, pushing the levitating chair in front of him.

"What happened?" the headmaster inquired, shooting the younger wizard a suspicious glance.

"Oh do not look at me as if I were the Grim Reaper, Albus. She should not have come all the way down here so soon after being drained ... and you of all people should have known better than to encourage her to tax herself like that. And why are you asking me what happened? You already know since you overheard every word."

Dumbledore busied himself with helping the Potions master to get the sleeping elf into the chair. "I …errrr..." he mumbled.

"As I thought. How much did you overhear?" Snape inquired testily.

The headmaster sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure how things were going to go, and I stayed here in case ...."

"Well?" Snape prompted as he reached for his wand and used it to Summon his travelling cloak from the chair in his office.

Dumbledore looked sheepish. "Everything up to the part where I heard this hysterical laughter and something about not being able to charm a gnat, and then I figured things were going fine, and ... that's when I felt it was safe to, you know...."

"Out-snore Hagrid?" Snape prompted helpfully, tucking the cloak over the unconscious form of Deveroux.

Dumbledore guffawed and glanced over at Snape. Then his jaw dropped about six inches. Fortunately his billowing beard and the dim torchlight in the corridor must have hidden his reaction, because Snape didn't seem to notice it. Then again, Snape was still busy fussing with the cloak. Things had obviously gone better than Dumbledore had planned or even hoped. The Potions master of Hogwarts appeared to be smitten with one of his own concoctions ... and only time would tell whether the effect would last.

Satisfied with his ministrations at last, Snape gave the chair a tap with his wand, bringing it under his control since its occupant was in no condition to command it. Then he and Dumbledore began escorting both the chair and the slumbering Defense teacher up the first stairwell on the long trip back to the infirmary.

"Albus, did you owl that letter as I requested earlier?" Snape asked softly in a voice he often used on the students, the one with that characteristic hint of menace, should the answer prove to be 'no'.

"No...I guess with all this running around, it simply slipped my mind."

"It simply slipped your mind?" Snape repeated, deliberately playing up the voice.

"You can use that voice on me all you want until Binns gives up teaching and Peeves gives up pranking, and you're never going to get the desired effect," Dumbledore commented.

"I know," Snape replied, "but I have to keep in practice."

"Do you still want me to send it?"

"Hmmm...no..." the Potions master decided. "I will send it myself when I get another owl. There's no need to rush things."

Indeed, thought the headmaster. Indeed.

End of Chapter 16