Early Winter, 1979-80


It was the Christmas season, though Severus saw no sign of it in Accident and Emergency until he reached the reception area. Harding, glowering intently, was conjuring everlasting candles and tucking them carefully among the bright leaves and berries of the holly garland decorating his desk.

It wouldn't do to disturb Harding at his travails. Without greeting him, Severus pushed his potions trolley past the reception desk and into the department.

"That's what I said!" a drunken voice bellowed from one of the treatment bays Severus passed on his way to the potions storage cabinet. "Geordie told me he'd jinxed my nose so nobody'd be able to put it back on right, and see? You can't put it back on right, now, can you?"

"Well, not right away, perhaps, Mr MacIntyre. But as I said, if you'll give the charm some time to work--"

"Time, Missy! Don't have time! What about me mates back home, waitin' fer the beer...." The voice trailed off into an unintelligible slur and Lily Potter dashed out of the bay.

"Don't have time is right," she muttered after the curtain had swung shut behind her. "Maybe you and your mates don't need any more beer--oh, hi, Severus." She rushed into the next bay without waiting for him to reply.

Severus understood. Besides Lily, he had seen only Barrows, another Trainee Healer, scurrying about the department. In fact, he was glad to be saved the trouble of making idle chatter. As Potions and Physics was as short-staffed over Christmas as A&E looked to be, he had enough of his own work to do.

And he had more than enough to think about. Some of his thoughts were quite well-worn by now, but nevertheless Severus returned to them while he stocked the potions cabinet behind the Healers' desk.

Two months had passed since he had met Lord Voldemort at Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, He-Who-Struck Terror-Into-The-Heart-Of-The-Wizarding-World had drunk brandy in front the fire with Severus. He had searched Severus's mind, tested Severus's power and pronounced himself impressed with what he had seen. And that had been the last Severus had heard from him.

Though Mother reported that Narcissa continued to call on her, Lucius had kept his distance and held his tongue since the interview in his library. Did that mean Voldemort had said nothing more to him about Severus? Wouldn't Lucius have passed on any message? It was disappointing in a way, an anticlimax.

And yet Severus was far from sure that he wanted to join the Death Eaters. Suppose Lucius--or Voldemort himself--came to him with the invitation? What on earth would he say? Did he want to join a band so many considered despicable? Did he want there to be yet another thing about him that he would have to hide from the rest of the world?

No, of course not. But would he be any happier if Voldemort, considering him less than worthy, passed him over? Severus had not forgotten the strangely heightened sensation he had felt around Voldemort, the combination of terror and allure, the chilling yet comforting certainty that Voldemort had looked into the depths of his heart and approved of what he'd found there. He missed that sensation. He wanted to feel it again.

A rumbling bang cut into Severus's ruminations: the sound of the ambulance doors opening at the end of the corridor. He turned and, looking through the doorway, saw the St Mungo's ambulance pop into view with a loud crack!

The St Mungo's ambulance was an old-fashioned lorry with bells on its sides, a vehicle which would have needed horses to draw it if it were not, like the Knight Bus, able to leapfrog through the magical ether to its destinations.

There the quaint resemblance between ambulance and Bus ended.

Severus stepped tensely around the Healers' desk as the doors at the back of the ambulance burst open and Crandall, Everett and a couple of other mediwizards piled out. Between them, they Levitated two stretchers carrying two identical men--identical twins, stocky and well-muscled, with heads full of thick, fiery-red hair. Their eyes were closed and their bodies were still. Under a liberal sprinkling of freckles, their faces were as grey as wasps' nests. All this was unpleasant enough, but to Severus no unfamiliar sight. What was new to him, what jolted his stomach so sickeningly, were the twins' oddly flaccid, horribly twisted limbs.

The mediwizards cast Carmenoris on the unconscious men and poured a sparkling silver potion down their throats, which Severus recognised as Ephedra Elixir. That meant the twins' hearts had stopped. They'd need more of the elixir; the ambulance didn't carry much. Severus returned to the A&E storage cabinet, took down a bottle and went back to the mediwizards.

At the same time, the commotion brought Barrows and Lily dashing from their patients' bays. Harding rushed up from the reception desk. His Auto-Writing Quill flew over a parchment hanging in the air beside him, taking down the information he elicited from the mediwizards.

"Prewett...duelling in the Charing Cross Road...Five Death Eaters? A spot of inconvenience there for the Obliviators, I should think..."

Barrows moved in. She bent over the nearest of the unconscious wizards and, pointing her wand at his breastbone, attempted the Resuscitation Charm. Nothing happened.

Barrows paled. "Put them in Room One," she said curtly. "There's room for us to work on both of them there. Severus, have you got more Ephedra Elixir?" She had looked up as she'd said the last and finally noticed that no Healer was tending to the other twin.

Lily Potter was still there, however. She was staring at the injured wizards with a look of horror on her face. Her eyes were bright with what Severus was certain were unshed tears.

Barrows frowned. "Erm, Lily? I need some help here."

"Of--of course." Swallowing hard, Lily went to the other twin's side. Barrows looked at Harding.

"Right. I'll call Healer Sage." Harding waved his wand at his parchment and quill. They deposited themselves in his pocket and he hurried back to his desk.

Severus followed the Trainees and mediwizards as they Levitated their patients onto beds in Room One. He handed the bottle of Ephedra Elixir to Barrows. She poured measures of the potion into two cups, one of which she gave to Lily.

"Please, Gideon. Please," Lily whispered shakily as she poured elixir down her Prewett's throat.

Barrows gave her another anxious glance. But though Lily's eyes still glistened, no tears escaped them. Her hand was steady, and the Ephedra Elixir flowed smoothly from her cup into the still-insensible wizard's mouth.

Barrows returned to her work. Severus left the room to resume the stocking of Accident and Emergency's potions cabinet. If the Trainees needed more Ephedra Elixir, they would call him. But Severus doubted that the twin wizards, neither of whom had so much as fluttered an eyelid since their arrival, would ever again profit from the drinking of potions.

Sage Flooed in a few minutes later. He shrugged out of his fur-lined cloak and tossed it to Harding. Underneath the cloak he wore dress robes of ice-blue silk. Evidently Harding had called him away from a Christmas party. But Christmas cheer seemed to be the furthest thing from Sage's mind as he strode down the corridor toward Room One with his fine robes flapping around him.

****

The wizards were young, and they had once been strong. Sage did not give up on them easily. Before Severus was done with the stocking, he stuck his head out of Room One and called for Blood-Balancer Solution, a potion used to maintain the failing body during a prolonged resuscitation.

As soon as Severus entered the room and laid eyes on the twins, he knew the Healers were working on corpses.

The Healers knew it too. Sage's face was tight and his eyes were as cold and closed-in as Severus had ever seen them. Barrows was pale and unusually quiet. Lily was even paler, perfectly white. Her eyes were dry. Somehow she had banished the tears. If Sage had seen them, doubtless he would have been most displeased.

Barrows and Lily poured Blood-Balancer Solution into the slack mouths of the unconscious wizards and followed it with another dose of Ephedra Elixir. Nothing happened. The twins remained still, still and twisted, their faces as grey and their lips as blue as before.

"Enough," said Sage softly.

Barrows and Lily stopped at once, without question or hesitation. They must have been waiting for that half-whispered command, hoping that Sage would put an end to their hopeless efforts.

With a wave of his wand, Sage composed the bodies and covered them in white sheets.

Severus began to collect the remains of the potions, so that he could identify what and how much needed to be replaced. As he did so, he stole surreptitious glances at the still forms, anonymous-looking now under their spotless shrouds.

Five Death Eaters, Harding had said. Was this what Lord Voldemort required of his followers? Of course it was. Severus knew it. The whole world knew it.

Five Death Eaters. Severus wondered if he might know any of them. Perhaps Lucius had been there. Perhaps he had killed one of the wizards who now lay draped under white sheets.

Severus snatched up empty bottles of Ephedra Elixir. Good lord, they'd used twenty drams. He'd have to brew the department a fresh batch.

If he joined the Death Eaters, would Voldemort expect him to kill? Voldemort knew about the Hidden Hellebore. He had ordered Severus to cast Sectumsempra on Lucius Malfoy. Severus remembered what it had felt like. Would he be able to reproduce that feeling whenever Voldemort wanted him to? Would he be able to use it to fuel an intent to murder?

"What happened to these two wizards?" Sage said. "Who brought them in? And have their next-of-kin been notified?"

"They came in by ambulance, sir," said Barrows. "I didn't have time to speak to the mediwizards, but I saw Harding taking down their information."

Lily had called one of the dead wizards by name: Gideon. But she added nothing to what Barrows had said. She said nothing at all. Severus caught a glance of her staring desolately at the two shrouded corpses as, with his hands full of empty potions bottles, he left Room One.

****

Harding stood just outside of Room One, his back stolidly to the door. He was speaking to a couple of dishevelled men. One of them had a badly-scarred face, shoulder-length dark hair and keenly-darting, beady black eyes.

The other was James Potter.

"You can't go in," Harding said to the two men.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett," the scarred man growled, talking past Harding. "We know they're here; don't try to tell us they're not. Where'd you put them?"

His robes and badge showed that the scarred man was an Auror. Remembering Scrimgeour, Severus made an extra attempt to avoid catching his eye. Sidling along the wall, he headed for the potions storage cabinet, so that he could finish the stocking and write up an order for fresh batches of Ephedra Elixir and Blood-Balancer Solution.

Severus evaded the Auror, but he couldn't keep himself from looking at Potter. Potter, fortunately, never spared him a glance. But why was he here? True, he'd got into the habit lately of fetching Lily at the end of the work day. Not that he had much else to do with himself, Severus thought. But Lily's shift, like Severus's, didn't end for hours.

Sage then emerged from Room One.

"Is there a problem? Ah, Chief Moody." When his eyes lit on the Auror, Sage looked as though he had found the answer to his question.

"Are they in there?" Moody demanded, almost belligerently. Sage regarded him questioningly.

"He's talking about the wizards Crandall and Everett brought in," said Harding. "Gideon and Fabian Prewett."

"Is that an official question?" Sage asked Moody. "Or were the Prewetts friends of yours?"

Moody's face went quite still. "'Were,' is it?"

"I'm afraid so," Sage said gently. "I'm very sorry."

Potter passed a hand over his eyes, so that when his wife came out of Room One, he did not see her at once.

"James," said Lily, sounding strangely breathless. "You weren't--"

Moody looked at her sharply, and Potter jerked his head up. Lily closed her mouth, pressing her lips together. Then she strode between Sage and Moody into Potter's embrace.

Potter held her tightly, but he had no tender look or word for her. He stared at Room One's closed door. Lily, though dry-eyed and expressionless, looked like a child seeking comfort when she rested her cheek against Potter's chest and tucked her head beneath his chin.

"Perhaps you know what happened, then, Chief?" asked Sage.

"Pretty much," said Moody. "We heard it from witnesses. An attack in broad daylight, in the Charing Cross Road, not far from the Leaky Cauldron. Cheeky bastards! The Prewetts came out of the Cauldron--heard the racket, I reckon. Anyway, they distracted the Death Eaters so that people nearby in the street could get away. Distracted! Some distraction. It took five Death Eaters to bring them down." He paused, for the door to Room One had opened once again to admit Barrows into the corridor. She eyed Lily, who drew away from Potter with a faint blush.

But Severus, remembering Lily's strange conduct during the Prewetts' resuscitation, suspected that Barrows had more than inappropriate displays of affection on her mind.

"There were Killing Curses flying everywhere," Moody went on, looking at Sage, "but no one actually saw any of them hit the Prewetts."

"The Unparseable Curse," Sage remarked quietly.

"What's that?" said Moody.

"The Bone-cracker Curse broke nearly every bone in the Prewetts' arms and legs," said Sage. "But it did not kill them. Neither, as far as I can tell, did anything else, either natural or magical. Yet they are dead, and most likely by a couple of those Killing Curses your witnesses saw. Avada Kedavra is the only curse which leaves no trace in the body of its victim. The Unparseable Unforgivable." Sage smiled thinly and briefly. "An old Healer's mnemonic."

"Oh. Yeah," said Moody rather distractedly.

"I doubt you've had a chance to contact any of the family," said Potter.

Sage looked quizzically at Potter, as if he found it odd to see him in Moody's company. "As a matter of fact, we haven't. I was hoping Chief Moody could give us a name. Or perhaps you know the family?"

"The Prewetts' sister and her husband are on their way," said Moody. "They know the boys were injured. They don't know they're dead."

"You'll allow me to take care of telling them?" Sage asked delicately. "Or would you prefer--?"

"You do it. You're a hell of a lot better at it than I am," Moody said shortly. "I sent an Auror to their place; they should be here any moment."

And, indeed, in the next moment, the Prewetts' next-of-kin arrived. Severus had started back to the potions storage cabinet, but he turned to watch them come in.

Like the Prewett twins, the husband and wife had bright, carrot-red hair. But there the resemblance between them ended. The man was tall and gangly, with spectacles that kept sliding down his long nose. His wife, the dead wizards' sister, was short, with a round and pretty, apple-cheeked face. She was also quite noticeably pregnant: more than halfway there, Severus reckoned, though he couldn't have called himself an expert on the subject.

An Auror accompanied the couple. With a mild start, Severus recognised Dawlish, the Auror whom he had healed of the Sectumsempra Curse a few months before.

Dawlish hung back as the sister and her husband drew closer to the little knot of people in front of Room One. The Prewetts' kin didn't notice him. Sage and Harding were exchanging inaudible words, but the Prewetts' kin didn't notice that, either.

They'd stopped dead. The husband was looking at the floor. The sister, leaning on his arm, handkerchief crumpled in her hand, stared in mute accusation at Moody and Potter.

Potter said something to her, so quietly that Severus couldn't make it out. Then Sage came forward.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley? You've met Alastor Moody, Head of the Auror Office?"

"We've met," said Moody. His eyes were fixed on Mrs Weasley's face. "Molly, I--"

Molly Weasley turned her back on him. Suddenly it all fell into place.

Molly Prewett and Arthur Weasley, of the Prewetts and Weasleys whom the pure-bloods had derided as blood traitors in the privacy of the Slytherin common room. Naturally they would be friends with that other pack of blood traitors, the Potters. That was why James Potter had a look of shock on his face as he stared at Molly Weasley's repudiatingly straight back.

His calm unruffled, Sage said, "I need to speak to you about your brothers, Mrs Weasley. My office would be best, I think, if I might ask you and your husband to step this way--?"

"No," said Molly. "You don't have to tell me anything. I know exactly what happened..." Her voice broke apart into sobs, and she buried her face in her handkerchief.

Weasley touched his wife's shaking shoulder. "Molly." His voice cracked.

"Perhaps you would like to come in and see them, then," said Sage quietly.

Molly lifted her head. She stared at the door behind Sage. "Yes," she said steadily, her face shining with tears. "I would like to see them."

Lily Potter, who had been silent up to this point, started toward Molly Weasley. Potter grasped her arm and muttered something to her.

Lily pulled away. "It's my job, James," she said.

Potter stared at her, looking startled. Then he nodded.

Lily went to Molly Weasley's side and took her hand. Molly looked at her: blue eyes held green for a long moment. Then Sage opened the door to Room One, and he, Lily and the Weasleys went inside.

Potter watched them go. As if the door itself were a grisly sight, he averted his eyes when it closed behind them.

"Come on, Potter," growled Moody. "We've got work to do, but not in this place." He sighed. "We're no damned good here."

He and Potter left through the emergency entrance, by the same door which had admitted the bodies of Gideon and Fabian Prewett. But what work did they have to do together? Hadn't Potter left the Auror training programme months before?

Severus wondered, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He still held the empty and half-empty bottles he had retrieved from Room One, and behind the Healers' desk the potions cabinet still needed restocking. He headed for it once again, and this time nothing interrupted the resumption of his work.

****

Severus had turned to put a pot of burn-healing paste on the top shelf of a corner cupboard behind the Healers' desk. That was how he happened to catch sight of Lily coming out of Room One.

Though he didn't mean to, Severus stared openly at her. She didn't notice. Though her eyes were wide open, she clearly saw nothing--at least, nothing of the department around her. Her face was even whiter than it had been when Severus had seen her working on Gideon Prewett. And her hands, he saw as she walked slowly past the desk, were twined over her belly in a white-knuckled knot.

Severus had never seen anyone who worked regularly in Accident and Emergency look so frightened.

He wasn't afraid she had seen him. Her eyes did not even flicker in his direction as she neared the Healers' desk. Even so, Severus turned away quickly and went back to work.

****

After that, the entire department remained quiet. Barrows went on to the next patient, and while Severus finished up the stocking, he saw no one else come out of Room One.

To be sure, he kept his back resolutely turned on the closed door, behind which the broken bodies of the Prewetts lay beneath their shrouds. Nevertheless, he was sure the Weasleys were still there when he pushed his trolley out from behind the Healers' desk. Some hubbub would certainly have accompanied their emergence from Room One.

Healer Sage had got out of the room without Severus's noticing it, however. Sage was at Harding's desk with the sleeves of his silk robes rolled above his elbows and the rosy glow of Harding's everlasting Christmas candles on his calm, lined face, signing the Prewetts' death certificates as Severus went by.

****

As far as hustle and bustle were concerned, the hospital cafeteria was a shadow of its former self. With skeleton crews staffing the departments at Christmas, very few people actually had the time to leave their floors for dinner.

Severus was determined to take the time, however, since he knew he'd have to put in a couple of extra hours that evening to finish up the brewings.

Chicken drumsticks, mashed potatoes and Brussels sprouts were the bland order of the day, but Severus didn't mind. He was so hungry, he would have eaten sawdust. He had thought that what he had seen in Accident and Emergency would take away his appetite for the rest of the day, but he had been wrong. As soon as he had stepped on the Rising Ramp which lifted him to Potions and Physics, his stomach had begun to growl.

Thus Severus, bent over his plate, was so intent on his food that he didn't notice Lily Potter until she put her meal tray on his table and sat down.

Severus looked up. Then he looked around the cafeteria. He saw no Healers except for a couple of Trainees from Creature-Induced Injuries, a man and a woman who had been an item for some time and who, sitting together and gazing into each other's eyes, clearly desired no other company.

"Mind if I sit down?" said Lily.

She was a little late in asking his permission, but Severus merely shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He had returned to his dinner and was cutting meat off a drumstick when she said quietly, "It was horrible, wasn't it?"

Again Severus looked up. "I suppose you're talking about the Prewetts?"

Lily nodded.

"They were dead by the time they arrived in A&E," Severus said. "There was nothing anyone could do."

Lily flared up. "How would you know? You're no Healer!"

"You are, or will be soon enough," Severus retorted coldly. "So how would you not know?"

Lily looked away for a moment, then back. "Sorry," she muttered. "It's just that--well, that Bone-cracker Curse. That has to be the worst torture, to have some wizard casting a curse at you that breaks your bones, one by one."

"I imagine it is," said Severus. Why was she telling him this? If she wanted to pour out her feelings to someone, why didn't she wait until Potter fetched her home?

"The one who used the Bone-cracker Curse was laughing," said Lily.

"What?"

"That Death Eater who broke Gideon's and Fabian's bones laughed while he did it."

"How do you know?" said Severus.

"Crandall overheard one of the Muggle witnesses telling an Auror just before the Auror Obliviated him." Lily sighed. "Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to be a Muggle, you know? Then they wouldn't just let you forget. They'd make you forget."

Did you have to be able to laugh while you were casting the Bone-cracker Curse before they let you join the Death Eaters? Or did you just get that way after you'd been with them for a while?

"Severus has given me much to think about," Voldemort had said. Did he think he could turn Severus into one of the laughers?

"I didn't think the resuscitation went so badly," Severus said to Lily, for he supposed she was looking for comfort of some sort.

"Except that, like you said, the patients were dead before we even started."

"What did Sage have to say about it?" asked Severus.

"He said I shouldn't have been taking care of people I knew."

"But what were you supposed to do? Barrows needed your help."

"He said none of us should do it," Lily went on, "but that maybe we'd better learn how, anyway. That the way things are going, we'll all soon be seeing people we know coming into Accident and Emergency as the victims of Death Eaters."

"I see he doesn't have much confidence in the Ministry's ability to protect us."

"Do you?" Lily asked acutely.

"You should know the answer to that."

Lily didn't immediately reply. She ran her hand through her hair in a gesture very like her husband's. "The answer to that is, somehow, we've got to stop them. We've got to fight them and carry on fighting them until we stop them."

"That's the Ministry's line. Couldn't you be a bit more original? Why, for instance, does no one suggest negotiating with the Death Eaters?"

"Negotiate with--! You don't get it, do you? It's not even the Death Eaters we're really fighting!"

"Not fighting the Death Eaters? Who do you think killed your friends?" Severus looked at her narrowly. "Because you didn't just happen to be acquainted with the Prewetts, did you? You and Potter were their friends."

Lily shrugged. "I suppose that was fairly obvious."

"Well, yes, you two do tend to wear your hearts on your sleeves."

"It doesn't interfere with my thinking ability," Lily said with some asperity. "What's your excuse?"

"My excuse? For what?"

"For not being able to work out that, if you were to negotiate, it wouldn't be with the Death Eaters. They're nothing more than the spell-fodder Voldemort throws at the Aurors to keep them off his arse while he goes after what he really wants."

Severus didn't wince. But he also didn't speak the Dark Lord's name. "And what does You-Know-Who really want?"

"The power to seek immortality without being pestered by any little gnats who might object to the way he seeks it."

"Bah. You've read too many crackpot letters to the editor in the Daily Prophet." She certainly couldn't have heard it from Lucius Malfoy. As Severus had.

"This time, the crackpots are right," said Lily. "Not to panic the way they do. But they're right to be afraid." She fell silent, and her eyes turned dark and distant. "I hate being afraid. I just hate it. Why did Voldemort have to come now, of all times, and start in with all his shit? Isn't there enough to be afraid of when you're going to have a baby? Do we really need Voldemort too?"

Going to have a baby... Severus stared at her.

"What's the matter--oh!" The light back in her eyes, Lily smiled sheepishly. "Well, why shouldn't you know? Everybody else does. Erm, yes. James and I are expecting."

Potter had not only persuaded her to marry him. He'd talked her into having his child.

Well, talked possibly wasn't the right word...

"So now do you get it?" said Lily. "I don't want to live in a world ruled by a wizard who wants nothing for all eternity but his own great, dark, bloated self. I don't want my child born into a world like that. But right now that's the world we're living in, because Voldemort's that great, dark, bloated wizard and he's ruling the rest of us through fear."

Severus couldn't take his eyes off Lily's flushed and suddenly animated face. He was remembering something weirdly similar which Potter had said, on one of those leaden days they'd spent together in Azkaban:

"I want to fight the outlaws, the criminals, the Dark...I don't want to part of one gang, led by one charismatic wizard, making hits on another gang, led by another charismatic wizard, may the bloke with the biggest wand win. I don't want to live like that."

Severus hadn't understood all of it, just as he didn't quite understand the bellicose attitude of this pregnant woman who, in his opinion, ought to have had more of a mind to protect herself, to wall herself in.

"Voldemort's done enough," said Lily, "he's had things his way long enough. We have to fight him, we have to get rid of him before our children are old enough to suffer the way we've suffered. You understand; of course you do! Molly does too, or she will, anyway." Her voice faded a bit, making her sound as though she hadn't quite convinced herself.

Severus was still gazing at her, but he didn't really see her. He saw Voldemort instead, with his blood-streaked eyes and his misshapen face. He saw Lucius submitting to Sectumsempra at his lord's command; he saw Ruskin in Azkaban, keeping his lord's secrets under the threat of dementors and death. He heard Lily inside his head: "That Death Eater who broke Gideon's and Fabian's bones laughed..."

You can't fight him, Severus wanted to tell her. Give up now, before he notices you. Before he decides to swat the gnat.

He looked at her, unable to say it. But why should he have to? Lily Potter was no Auror. She didn't fight Lord Voldemort. Why should he notice her, wish to obliterate her?

So Severus said nothing, and suddenly Lily looked embarrassed. "I've gone on, haven't I? As if you didn't have enough problems of your own."

Indeed. But Severus merely shrugged.

"Thanks for listening, anyway--oh, no, will you look at the time! I've got to get back to A&E, or Sophia Barrows will have my head!" Lily leapt up, grabbed her tray and rushed to hand it to the house-elf who stood by the scullery door.

Severus did not move until Lily had left the cafeteria. Then he looked over his shoulder at the clock. It said seven-fifteen: he too was late in returning to work. But he did not hurry as he carried his tray to the house-elf, for there was no one waiting for him in the Potions and Physics Department.

****

It was nine-fifteen before Severus was finished with the brewings and on his way home through a gentle snowfall. He had forgotten to call Mother to tell her he would be late, but these days, if she was lonely, she could always call Narcissa Malfoy.

Arriving in Linden Lane, Severus let himself into his house. It was as dark inside as out. Mother must have already gone to bed, he thought, so he walked quietly up the stairs, lighting his way with the dimmest of wandlight. But when he reached the top step, he heard noise coming from Mother's bedroom: the scraping of drawers and the opening and closing of her wardrobe.

"Mother?" said Severus.

A drawer slammed shut. Then there was silence.

Severus entered his mother's bedroom. There, by the light of a single candle guttering in a sconce on the wall, he saw her wadding clothes into a suitcase open on her bed.

"Mother?" said Severus. "What are you doing?"

"I'm packing, and you'd better too." Her voice was thick with tears. "We're leaving."

"We're leaving? Why?"

Mother went to her dresser, picked up a parchment and thrust it into Severus's hands.

29 Dec. 1979

Dear Mrs and Mr Snape,

The disturbance earlier this evening caused by your Muggle relation, Mr Tobias Snape, has unfortunately brought to my attention the fact that you have again failed to uphold the terms of your lease.

You will recall that the last time Mr Tobias Snape engaged in drunken and near-violent altercations in Linden Lane and inside your house, I was forced to give you a final reminder of your responsibility, in accordance with Subsection 10 (b) of your lease, to assist in protecting Linden Lane and the properties within it from unauthorised Muggle intrusion.

You cannot be unaware that the Muggle-Repelling Enchantments which you have repeatedly sabotaged were cast in compliance with the legal requirement that all magical locations be concealed from general Muggle notice. I regret to say, therefore, that I must ask you to immediately vacate the premises of Number Three, Linden Lane.

Wishing you the best of the holiday season,

Mrs Rose Watkins

Severus stared at the letter. His hands began to shake, and the parchment trembled. "What happened?" he whispered.

"Your father was here. Out in the street, shouting. He was drunk. I got him into the house as fast as I could--"

Severus cut the air with a gesture. He didn't need to hear more. Closing his eyes, he asked, "How did he get here?"

There was a moment's silence, then Severus heard moaning, muffled sobs. It sounded as though Mother was weeping into her handkerchief, just as Molly Weasley had done. "I don't know how he got in," she cried. "I didn't let him in; it's not true, I didn't!"

"Stop!" cried Severus. He opened his eyes. Stricken silent, Mother returned him a wide, watery stare.

"I--I'm sorry," Severus said through clenched teeth. He unclenched them. "But don't you see? Tobias was Obliviated the last time he was here. So someone had to tell him where to go and someone had to let him in. Someone who knows the location of Linden Lane and knows how to release Mrs Watkins's Muggle-Repelling Enchantments. In other words, someone who lives here."

Mother dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, then folded it neatly and put it into her pocket. "I have no idea how Tobias found Linden Lane," she said, rather shakily, but quietly. "I don't know how he got past the enchantments. Until today, I had neither seen nor heard of him in three months, since the last time he was here."

"And yet you let him into the house," said Severus. "You opened the door to him."

"What was I supposed to do, leave him to carry on bellowing in the street?"

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Why, I--I couldn't, you were busy, look how late you were tonight, I couldn't bother you--"

"Why didn't you call me?"

"He wouldn't let me."

You're a witch. You could have made him let you. Those were, logically, the next words to be said. But Severus didn't say them. He stared at Mother's suitcase. When he had first come in, he had seen her stuffing her clothing into it by hand.

"Where's your wand, Mother?" he asked.

She pulled her wand from her pocket and held it before her eyes for a moment. She bowed her head, and after a short silence the dull keening of her words came out from behind the veil of hair which hid her face: "Why won't he love me?" Then suddenly Mother threw her head back. Her hair fell away, revealing her features twisted in agony. "And if he won't love me, if I'm too ugly, too freakish for him to love me," and here her voice rose to a shriek, "then why won't he leave me alone!"

Severus held up Mrs Watkins's letter, cowering behind it from the barrage of his mother's emotion. Yet even as he did so, he saw that her crashing flood of feeling caused not a single spark to erupt from her wand.

"Yes," said Mother. Her voice was quiet again, so that Severus heard the clattering of her wand when she dropped it to the floor. Lowering the parchment, he saw that her face was still. "That's why I couldn't make him let me call you."

And that was why she hadn't lent her magic to the maintenance of Mrs Watkins's Muggle-Repelling Enchantments. She hadn't any magic to lend.

Severus crumpled up Mrs Watkins's letter and flung it aside. What would he and Mother do now? Where would they go? They couldn't leave London. He had to work. He couldn't even hope for a few days off until after the New Year; this was the busiest and shortest-staffed time of year at St Mungo's. They'd have to stay at an inn or rent a couple of rooms until they found a new place. How was he to afford it? And he'd better hope that Mrs Watkins didn't delay returning his security deposit, or he wouldn't have the money for a deposit on a flat.

It would have to be a flat this time, for his savings had dwindled to the point where he couldn't afford to rent another house.

He could beg, he supposed. If Lucius was truly his friend and Narcissa Mother's, Severus could beg for their room and board at Malfoy Manor until he could find them another place to live.

It was a bitter thought. Severus shuddered with helpless rage at Tobias Snape. And Mother--why was she still obsessed with that Muggle bastard after all these years? Why did she still indulge herself with the dream of a love that, if it had ever existed, was long gone?

"Severus?" said Mother. "What are we going to do?"

It always fell to him to solve their problems, to dig them out from under the wreckage. "Do? We'll beg. That's what we'll do."

Severus went downstairs and threw a fistful of Floo powder into the hearth. When he called for Malfoy Manor, Narcissa answered: her head appeared in the grate, crowned with a plait of white-gold hair. Having no wish to prolong the pain, Severus hardly greeted her before telling his story as quickly as he could.

Thank God, Narcissa didn't wait for him to ask if he and Mother could stay at Malfoy Manor. Thank God, he didn't have to beg.

"Oh, Severus, how horrible! You and Eileen must come to the Manor at once and stay with us for as long as you like! You can Floo straight in to work: Lucius's father has arranged for a direct connection to St Mungo's. And I would love to have Eileen to keep me company; we've become such friends!"

"Narcissa--" Severus began.

"I refuse to hear any objections! I am not listening to them! I will not deprive myself of the pleasure of having you and Eileen as my guests!"

For a moment, Severus was struck speechless. He had never seen Narcissa so effusive. Mother seemed to have had quite an effect on her--at any rate, Severus was sure that he had done nothing to inspire such enthusiasm.

"Thank you," he said finally. "I'm grateful."

"Think nothing of it. The pleasure is all ours. When can we expect you?"

"When can we come?"

"At once!" declared Narcissa. "I'll wake Lucius and tell him you're on your way."

Vastly relieved at how easy it had been, Severus thanked her, ended the call and went up to his mother.

Though Mother also seemed relieved at the news, she looked less than overjoyed. Perhaps she was feeling the shame at begging which Severus had determinedly put away from himself.

He didn't ask Mother about it. He gladly avoided thinking about it at all. He magically completed his and Mother's packing. He wrote a note to Mrs Watkins, leaving his forwarding address (let her worry about the friends he had in high places!) and telling her that, later in the week, he would send a removal company for the rest of their belongings.

Then Severus and his mother went out into the snowy night and caught the Knight Bus for Malfoy Manor.