Part Nine

The Hunter's Moon

Harry sat with Sirius at breakfast instead of with Draco. He noticed the blond boy was sitting with his father on one side and his sister on the other; he nodded to himself at that; he thought that was right, he could tell that Draco's father was struggling. Harry was glad Hermione had tagged along with him this morning; she was the nearest thing he had to a sister, and he felt a little explosion of belonging when he saw her smile across at him in concern.

He was frightened; he had no real idea of what faced them tonight, only that something dreadful did. He wished Snape hadn't been away for so long; he had envied Sirius when he had gone to see him, and for some reason he found himself wishing he could go with him. It had come as a bit of a shock to Harry to recognise that it wasn't Sirius's company he had craved; it was Snape's. But he had been frightened again when Sirius came back; something bad was happening and Harry didn't really want to know what it was.

He wished he had something to hold on to tonight; something like the secret Draco's mother's portrait had given the blond boy to wind around his heart. He wished he had something to wind round his heart, to make him strong; he thought he was going to need to be strong. But he had no wonderful secret to hold him up; he had not even been coached in how to shut his mind the way Draco had, Snape had insisted that he had to remain open to him. He wished he hadn't been away for so long; he was the only one who seemed to have the answers to the questions he needed to ask.

He looked again to where Draco was talking to his father. Lucius Malfoy appeared pale and anxious and was nodding absently to his son, looking at Lupin every now and again. Harry knew tonight was the full moon, the Hunter's Moon; everyone was waiting for it to rise in the sky, even Voldemort.

He let his mind slip to this awful Dark Lord, the real life bogeyman. He was about as bogey as they came, Harry reckoned, but Severus would sort him out, he thought savagely. He smiled quietly to himself as something slipped into place; he didn't need secrets or Occlumency to hold him up, and he understood why now; he had Severus Snape. He would hold him up for James, and if the need arose Harry hoped he could find a way to hold Snape up too; the thought comforted him. He wondered if the Dark Lord were frightened; if he weren't, Harry thought he should be.

*****

'He is playing with us, Lucius,' Lupin said, as Malfoy clawed his sleeve back again to make sure the Dark Lord hadn't called and he hadn't noticed.

It had been hours since the Dark Mark had begun to fade, and with it the pressures on Lucius's mind. At first Sirius had thought that Malfoy had taken another dose of the sedative Snape had left him, but on some level he knew that wasn't true; he knew Malfoy had accepted that the time for running had passed.

'I've deployed most the troops to the woods surrounding the graveyard at Little Hangleton,' Sirius remarked. 'The intelligence we're getting back suggests that the Death Eaters are gathering strength there.'

'Don't set that in stone, Sirius,' Lupin replied, shaking his head slowly and looking towards the window to where the afternoon sun had begun to dip in her descent towards twilight.

Sirius frowned. 'I've seen it for myself, Old Wolf.'

'It's not your place to tell me where to go,' Lupin replied. 'I shall be making this decision, and I shall not be making it until I know where they are,' he said with his back still to Sirius. 'I want you to bring them back here. Bring them here to wait on the hill. We might not have time to get someone to Little Hangleton to withdraw them if we're at the wrong place.'

'Remus, I already know where they are,' Sirius argued.

The werewolf spun in anger, the pent up aggression he always felt on this day spilling over. 'Damn you, Sirius, bring them back. It's not where Voldemort is just now that matters; it's where he is tonight. Now bring the troops back and I shall tell you where to send them when I see fit.'

Sirius looked away, abashed. Lupin was right; he was the Hunter.

'When will you know?' Draco asked from where he sat below his mother's portrait, with Cassiopeia on one side and Harry and Hermione on the other.

'As the Hunter's Moon rises,' Lupin said with a mysterious smile. His momentary anger had subsided. 'My moon.'

'But how will we know?' Harry asked. 'If you're a wolf, how will Sirius know where to follow you?'

'I'll know,' Sirius replied, as the three Borzoi sighed in their sleep in front of the fire.

Lucius started and looked at Sirius, and then to where the dogs lay, their flanks gently rising and falling beneath their long curly silky coats. 'The dogs?' he asked. His expression was faintly puzzled, but as though something that had tugged at his mind had just slipped into place.

Sirius nodded. 'I didn't understand it at first. I didn't understand how I could find Remus if I didn't go with him; it was the one thing I couldn't work out.' He nodded again to where the three great brown and white dogs slumbered on; they looked to him like hairy aristocratic greyhounds. 'They are Russian wolfhounds, Lucius, and I am a hound and Remus is a wolf.'

Lucius gave him a wan smile as he nodded his own understanding. 'Well, just make sure you behave, Black. They are very well bred.'

'Up yours, fat boy,' Sirius said with a grin and then frowned. 'Where have they been, Shirley? I haven't even heard them barking.'

'I don't know where they were; I had assumed the rest of children had them. They just appeared here a couple of days ago ... for some reason I didn't see fit to send them packing,' Malfoy confessed. 'Borzoi don't bark actually; they are almost mute. In fact that night in Scotland I suspect they sensed something; they are not usually even reliable enough to warn off intruders.'

'It's all starting to fit together, isn't it?' Sirius asked. 'It's as though we're all being swept along now, even the dogs.'

They all turned to the window to where Lupin was watching the gathering dusk. 'He's on the move, Sirius,' the werewolf whispered. 'I can feel him. I don't know where he is yet, but he's moving.' As he turned to face them, a smile broke out on his face. 'He does not know me; he cannot feel me,' he declared in what sounded like exaltation. 'My quarry is unaware.'

Sirius felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he crossed the room to the werewolf, and the three dogs woke and walked over to stand at his side; it reminded him of the night they had gone to Severus on his unspoken command. He wondered just who had summoned them this time; Lupin perhaps, maybe Severus, or was some even grander scheme at work? Sirius knew one thing; it hadn't been him.

'What's happening?' Draco asked in frightened voice. 'Is something happening?'

'Not yet.' Sirius turned to him with a grin of reassurance, but he knew it wasn't true; he knew that very soon the Dark Lord would have to make his move for Lucius, and that Malfoy and the two boys would go to his side. Sirius knew he would then have the tortuous wait until Lupin somehow let him know where to go. 'Let's all go out and wait on the hill,' he suggested. 'That way we can all be together for as long as possible.'

*****

Dumbledore was pleased that Sirius had recalled his troops; he hadn't been at all sure that Voldemort would stay in Little Hangleton. It had probably been his intention to move to Malfoy Manor to where the dragon was, but now Dumbledore felt that the Dark Lord might see fit to present them with a double bluff and stay put. It was best this way; they could not outguess him any more than they could outguess anyone, the stakes were too high. He nodded briefly as the party from Lucius's rooms climbed to the top of the hill outside Hogwarts; it was quite crowded on this chilly October night.

'Try not to worry, Lucius; you have a big enough task in front of you without worrying that it will not come to pass,' he said, as Malfoy once again drew back his sleeve to look at the dormant faded mark on his left arm. 'He will send for you; of that much we can be certain.' Dumbledore held the troubled grey eyes, trying to instil some calm on the latent panic he felt bubbling under the surface; he thought the sooner Lucius had reached the point of no return the better for everyone.

The Headmaster had a grandfatherly hand on the shoulders of each of the boys. Draco, son of Lucius, he knew the boy had the heart of the dragon he had been named for; he knew he would not falter. And Harry, son of James, so like the father he had never known that Dumbledore had no doubts that he would rise to the awful part he did not know he had to play, that somehow Severus would Guide him to that deed. So young, and yet it was this untainted innocence of youth that would help to carry the day; if indeed it could be carried.

He let his thoughts wander to Lucius again, to how he would cope when finally in the presence of the dark master he so feared. And yet this Lucius was a different man to the one who had been at first blinded by power, and then so terrified of it that he could not shake free. This Lucius had known the kinder things in life since his days with the Death Eaters; he knew what love was and had felt its power too. Dumbledore hoped it was enough.

He watched Sirius deliver his orders to his troops, watched the way they listened to him with the unswerving loyalty of men and women who had served under this ultimate general before; he had no doubts about him. Sirius Black would do exactly what he wanted to do, until it really mattered, and then he would do whatever Severus needed done.

Lupin stood with Lucius's three Borzoi at his side; despite the people around him he seemed to have drawn apart from them. He looked oddly alone, as though he had begun to commune on some other plane with his true mistress, where she still sat well below the horizon. Dumbledore watched him for a few moments before turning away, as Lucius let out a gasp of pain and doubled over, clenching the fist of his left hand.

*****

Lucius straightened as the searing pain faded, and he found himself blinking in recognition of his own home with the two boys at his side. Instead of Narcissa draped on the chaise in front of the fire in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, there was a man he had never seen before. He was immaculately dressed in an Edwardian-style plum-coloured velvet jacket, and he sat with his legs crossed, smoking a cigarette, as Severus topped up his brandy glass from behind him. It was a picture of sartorial elegance; Lucius didn't think he needed an introduction.

'Welcome home, Lucius,' Riddle said with a smile. 'The years have dealt kindly with you.'

Lucius dropped to his knees and kissed the hem of Riddle's trouser leg, the one that was crossed gracefully over the other. He would go through the motions; he didn't care. He had told Draco what to expect, and he felt he had long ago got used to the humiliation of prostrating himself at Voldemort's feet. He was just beginning to think that it wasn't going to be as bad as he expected, when he felt the Dark Lord draw his finger lightly across his cheek as he felt the slam in his mind, and for a moment he feared he would black out in sheer terror.

'On your feet, Lucius,' Riddle purred, and Lucius knew he had no option but to obey.

He stood, catching Severus's worried eyes for just a moment as he tried to shut his mind down again. "Keep calm, Lucius, nothing will be gained if you panic," Severus said softly into his mind. Lucius felt himself rally, but just a little. He felt the sweat roll down his spine in an uncomfortable trickle as he dropped back to Draco's side. He looked down at the boy's face, expecting to see his own fear mirrored, and saw only concern. His little dragon, the boy who had turned his path away from serving the abomination that sat before him. He would try; for him he would try.

'Are you going to explain just what has kept you from my side for so long, Lucius?' Riddle asked as he stood up. 'Or perhaps I shall guess.' He smiled, encompassing the two boys, as though he had only just noticed they were there. 'The blond boy is Narcissa's gift, is he not?'

'He is my son, my Lord,' Lucius replied.

Riddle smiled yet again. 'I see you have been taking lessons in indirect answers from Severus. Let me assure you that it will serve no purpose to attempt to dazzle me with clever answers, Lucius. We know one another too well, my old friend.' He beckoned Draco to his side, just one crook of the index finger; he was not a man used to having to ask twice. As Draco reached him, Riddle touched his cheek too, and Lucius felt something twist inside him.

'Don't touch him,' he snarled.

Riddle threw back his head and laughed. 'My my, Lucius, you have grown balls these last ten years.'

"Carefully, Lucius," Severus said softly into his mind. "Do not become angry; he is only trying to provoke you."

Lucius let his eyes flit to Severus; he looked terrible, despite the careful way in which he was groomed, the outer shell of varnish he had painted on. Lucius could see he was a man at the outer limits of his endurance. He had no way of communicating with him; Severus could speak to him, but he had no way of returning his thoughts. He watched him twist his lip in his version of a smile, as he felt the words slip gently into his mind, softer than a sigh. "I am fine, Lucius; worry about yourself and Draco. I shall do the rest."

Lucius felt himself nod before he realised the mistake he had made, as he doubled in agony when the Dark Lord unleashed his Cruciatus Curse, just a half measure, just enough to get the attention he sought.

'You forget your manners, Lucius,' Riddle screamed at him as he hauled him to his feet again. 'How dare you talk to Severus behind my back.'

Lucius found his vision clearing in time to see Severus drag himself to his feet too; it seemed he had been dealt the twin brother of the Curse that had hit him. He saw that Potter had run to his side; that was good, for some reason he was glad of that much.

'Now that you have given me the common courtesy of your undivided attention, let us begin again,' the Dark Lord said without the smile.

*****

Harry couldn't grasp what was happening. After the strange rush of Apparating had passed, he found himself in a sumptuous room with a blazing fire below the portrait of what he guessed was a younger Lucius Malfoy. The artist had caught everything with his brushstrokes, the fine nose, the nostrils just slightly flared in superiority; the aristocratic mouth that could be used so effectively as a weapon of disdain; the clear eyes, so grey that they were in fact totally devoid of colour, like the silver hair, as though the meticulous washing of the Malfoy blood had washed everything else away too. For some reason Harry thought that this was a different man to the Lucius Malfoy he knew, but not a better one.

A man sat on the settee, and Snape stood behind him pouring brandy into his glass. Harry had expected something spooky, maybe thunder rattling the windows as lightning zigzagged across a stormy night sky, but it had all seemed to be so civilised ... if he discounted the fact that he found he could not move, and Snape looked more ill and tired than any person Harry had ever seen. Something inside Harry longed to go to his side, just to let him know that he was still strong, that he was willing to do his part.

It was only when the man who had been on the settee began to speak that Harry fully understood the meaning of the word "evil". It wasn't so much what the man said, not the individual words; it was the feeling of menace behind them. When the man he knew was Voldemort raised his opened hand and said, "CRUCIO", in a voice like the thunder Harry had expected earlier, first to Lucius and then had turned on his heel and had done the same to Severus, Harry found himself able to move again. He ran automatically to Severus's side as though he ought to be there. He found himself unsurprised that Snape somehow managed a few words of encouragement, even in his agony. From anyone else they would have been brusque brush-off. "I am not a cripple, Potter; I can manage to stand on my own," sounded like a balm to Harry's troubled senses, especially when he realised that Snape had not actually spoken.

Voldemort was speaking again, and Harry found Snape's hand had drifted to his shoulder. He wouldn't move now; he felt safer here than he would feel in any other part of this room.

'Dearly beloved,' the Dark Lord began, 'we are gathered together in the sight of ... well...in my sight, to perform something akin to a marriage ceremony.' He smiled disarmingly.

Harry saw that Lucius Malfoy had closed his eyes and had pulled Draco to him in some sort of protection, but Voldemort touched his shoulder and Draco seemed to turn to him as though he couldn't help himself. He looked at Snape and saw that he had moved his little finger, just a bit, so Harry knew he had given him a sign, a sign not to resist just now.

'Enough of this nonsense for now,' Voldemort said, and turned to where Macnair had appeared in the door with Bellatrix Lestrange and Evan Rosier. 'Take the children, Walden. You know where to take them ... and make sure they are comfortable and have supper served to them.'

Harry wanted to say he wasn't hungry, that he didn't want to go with these people he didn't know, that he didn't want to leave Snape's side, but for some reason he couldn't untie his tongue; it felt like lead in his mouth. He watched the smallest finger of Snape's left hand rise and fall lightly against his thigh again; he would have to trust him, there was nothing else he could do.

As he and Draco left the room, Harry saw a small black cat sitting in an alcove in the hall. Something about the way she seemed to blink at him made him think he was glad she was there. He knew that Draco had seen her too.

*****

'Not hungry, my love?' Riddle asked, as Snape's untouched plate was removed.

Severus shook his head. His only pleasure in this grotesque parody of a romantic dinner for two was that Bellatrix was the waitress for tonight; she wouldn't like that. He knew he could not afford to make any sort of move until the moon had risen. To kill Voldemort just now would only result in him and Lucius and the two boys being killed by the thirty-odd Death Eaters Severus knew were here. He had to wait for Lupin to find them and somehow let Sirius know where they were. He had to wait for Black and the rest of the men and women he would bring with him. He had to wait for Charlie Weasley; he was quite sure that Voldemort would just flee to the dragon if the body he inhabited just now were killed. He had to wait as he had waited for seven tortuous days now.

He looked to where Lucius lay on the floor. There was an ugly bruise at his temple and Severus thought his arm was broken. He was mercifully unconscious; it was when he came to that Snape worried for him. Harry had done as he had been told and the boy had somehow managed to, not only keep his mind open, but to reach out for his own, to be on tap so to speak, so that he did not need to search for him. Both he and Draco were as safe as they could be for the time being.

As Riddle raised his wand, Lucius stirred and hauled himself into a sitting position, unconsciously putting his weight on his left arm. He let out cry of agony, and the Dark Lord dropped to his side in feigned concern. He drew his wand along Malfoy's arm and stood up, holding out his hand to pull Lucius to his feet.

'Come now, Lucius,' he said. 'Join us now and let us put all this unpleasantness behind us. I know you, Old Snake; I know you better than you know yourself.'

'Where are the children, Tom?' Snape asked, trying to divert Riddle's attention from Lucius.

'The boys are fine, Severus,' Riddle replied reproachfully. 'Do you think I would harm one hair on their little heads after the work I have done these last ten years?' He hesitated for a moment as though suppressing his rage. 'Work I had to carry out alone, surrounded by only fools and miscreants whilst my two most favoured companions took a holiday.'

'Hardly a holiday,' Severus remarked. 'I, for one, had no idea where you were.''

Riddle held his eyes for a moment. 'In that case it is just as well that one of us was keeping tabs on the other, don't you think?' He turned to Lucius and put an arm across his shoulder. 'Now, Lucius. The first thing I think you should do is arrange a grand ball for the heads of the international wizarding communities. I know how much you would enjoy doing that. Just think of how you can show off the way you used to. Nobody has reduced being rich and stupid to such an art form as you have.' He looked around the dining room, nodding as though it were adequate for his purposes. 'Dinner in here, I think. A select few guests, perhaps a hundred or so, just to reintroduce ourselves to the top echelons of society. I would not want to think they had forgotten me as quickly as some,' he said, giving both Severus and Lucius a flat look, just in case they had missed his point.

Lucius put his hand to his temples, and winced as he touched the bruise.

'Do you agree to do this, Lucius,' Riddle asked. 'Or am I asking too much of the man who once held parties every other week for me?'

'Yes, my Lord,' Lucius replied. 'I agree.'

'That is settled then. Now that we have decided to be civil with one another, I shall let you into my master plan,' he said, as he stood from the table once more. He nodded to the door and Macnair opened it from the outside; Severus wondered if Riddle still sought to impress him with parlour tricks. 'Come, gentlemen,' Riddle said as he swept past the bone-thin Death Eater, as though he weren't there. 'You wanted to see the children, Severus. It is time for us to pay them a visit.'

*****

Severus felt his heart turn over; it was too soon, he had no indication that Lupin had arrived, which meant that no one else had either. It was too soon; he needed to stall this in some way. He should have done that while they were still at the table; there was no good excuse he could think of to call Riddle back along the corridor. As he followed the Dark Lord out of the dining room he caught sight of his cat, slunk low under a table in an alcove. She seemed to raise her head without moving, as though listening to the dog howling strangely from the direction of the wood at the side of the manor. Severus felt the relief flood through him; Lupin had found them, the Hunter was here.

'Macnair, get rid of that dog, wherever it is,' Riddle snapped. 'I do not care for them and Severus has developed an altogether questionable taste for them.'

Snape ignored the jibe, pleased only that the Dark Lord had not thought there was anything significant about the howl. He had to think of a way to slow Riddle; he knew Black would not be here yet, Lupin's second signal would tell him the troops had arrived, the third that they were in the manor. Snape knew he could not risk the children's lives until they were in place; he could not and would not.

They had reached a room at the farthest west corner of the manor. Severus knew it had been Narcissa's private sitting room at one time, giving her a view of the rose garden and the setting sun; he was about to close the door when he heard the second signal. It had come sooner than he had hoped; he had thought there might have been some confusion about Black getting everyone here. He couldn't think why that was; Sirius hadn't been Dumbledore's general for nothing.

He was concerned that Riddle had brought them to the west side of the great house; he fully expected that Sirius's men and women had arrived at the Apparition point at the west of the manor, he hoped they weren't going to be noisy. But for now he had to give them the time to get in place; Black couldn't protect them if Severus had spent their lives before he got here.

'Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen,' Riddle said, as though he were hosting two business acquaintances. 'Macnair, bring the brandy. Lucius has some very palatable nineteen fifty-six in his cellar. Bring the children with you when you return.' As Macnair turned to leave, Riddle called him back. 'And get rid of that bloody dog.'

'Rosier checked outside, my Lord,' Macnair said. 'It's all quiet.'

'Check again, Walden,' Riddle said with calm menace.

'I didn't know you kept dogs,' Snape remarked.

Riddle gave him a hard look. 'I don't. I shall though,' he said and raised his eyebrow meaningfully, 'if it makes you feel at home.'

*****

Sirius slunk across the relics of the kitchen garden and past the once-splendid glass orchid house; Lucius needed to have a word with his ruddy elves he thought, they had let the place fall to ruin. He watched two men stop to exchange a few words as they crossed one another's paths at the back door before walking off in opposite directions. Sirius knew without checking that the twelve men and women, who had flattened themselves to the ground, had their attention riveted on the black dog. He waited until the guards had each gone round their respective sides of the mansion before changing form and slipping to the back door. Muggle lock, he mused to himself. He took a long thin piece of steel from his boot and forced the brass bolt back.

He knew he had time; he had checked the patrol three times now. He had just given his signal to call his troops when the back door was pulled out of his hand and Walden Macnair's face appeared before him. The element of shock on Walden's part helped, Sirius supposed, but there had been something satisfying about drawing his poniard from his left boot and stabbing the skinny fuck through his lying heart. He left it up to one of the others to bring the body back inside; there wasn't a lot of point in leaving it for the guards to come across.

Sirius had been surprised when the dogs had told him to go to the manor; it suited him though, he and Lupin had been here before, so had Charlie and Bill. It was going to save time, and Sirius thought that was about the most precious commodity they had. He nodded Bill and Charlie away to where the hidden room down to the dragon was; Lucius had told them how to release the spell to find the door, if the necessity arose. Sirius changed form again and made his way toward the front of the house, relying on his canine senses only now. He found Harry and Draco's scent but reluctantly ignored them, as Snape's was not with them. He needed to find Severus; he knew that wherever he was, Voldemort was, and wherever Voldemort was, the action wasn't far behind.

He heard voices and picked his way along the corridor to where a door was slightly ajar on what seemed to be a corner room. Draco and Harry's scent reached right to it and he could sense Snape now, Lucius too, and the overpowering stench of evil he knew was Voldemort. He knew why he had not smelt Severus before now; he must have come to this room from a different direction from the two boys, for some reason they must have been split up for a while.

He nodded abstract acquaintance to the small black cat that sat under the table in the alcove opposite, but she seemed not to be ready to make whatever move he expected her to make, and sat patiently watching until her time was right. Sirius wasn't ready either. He had had a fistfight with Charlie Weasley about how long the belligerent redhead needed to secure the dragon, and he knew he dare not slice much off his time; he contended himself to watch this too. He was vaguely aware of a fading howl which he knew was Lupin's last signal; Severus knew he was here. Sirius thought that was awfully important. Severus knew he was here, and he had come for them.

*****

Riddle looked towards the window and frowned as he heard the howl of a dog again, before turning his attention to the two flasks on the mahogany table.

'It is time now, Severus. Time for me to make my gift to you and for Lucius to make his gift to me.' He turned to where Malfoy stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder.

Lucius was all but spent; the Dark Lord's chains were so tightly bound about him that the only free movement he could make was that one touch on his son's shoulder. Severus had always thought that Lucius would be the weak link in their own chain, but he had been thinking metaphorically; he had not thought it would come down to this. Riddle had made no real attempt to sway Lucius, and that made Snape think he had no further use for him, that he was something to be disposed of when he became inconvenient; he could see that Lucius realised that too. Lucius would make the trade to save his life and Severus couldn't find it in his heart to blame him; Tom Riddle was very persuasive. But it would not change things; he suspected Lucius was a dead man anyway.

'Your gift, Lucius,' Riddle said with a smile, and held up his hand. 'But I want you to understand I am not asking for myself; I ask for him for my Severus instead. Do you gift this boy into Severus's care for all time?'

'To Severus?' Lucius asked with a frown that made him wince as it tightened the ugly mark on his temple.

'Indeed, Lucius. I had not intended to take the boy at all,' Riddle replied with the air of a man who has just pulled the rug from under another's feet, and is waiting with only the mildest interest to see where he lands. 'You see, I have no need of him. He is, shall we say, just a means to an end for me. Now, do you agree to gift him to Severus's care?'

Lucius caught Snape's eye in puzzlement, but he had no answer for him; he didn't understand either. He knew one thing though; it wasn't good. 'Yes, I willingly pass him into Severus's care,' Malfoy said tiredly, as the defeat that had been creeping around the edges finally reclaimed all its territory. He looked down at his son as though bidding him a last farewell, as though he knew he would not see him grow up to be the man he would become one day. Severus hoped Riddle wouldn't ask Lucius any more; he doubted he was capable of speech any longer.

'Go to Severus, boy; he will care for you now,' Riddle said in satisfaction, as he turned to where Harry stood at Snape's other side, as though his interest in Lucius Malfoy were over forever. 'And Harry, you Harry, must come to my side,' he said. And Harry moved to his side, unable to refuse him.

Riddle bent quickly to the table and picked up one of the flasks of the blood from the dragon. 'You see, Severus,' he said, as he snapped off the top and drank half of whatever it contained. 'You are not the only potion maker in the world; I can cobble together a neat little concoction myself. Dying is vastly overrated, my love; living forever is much more fun, especially when you get a preview of my new body.' He smiled as the planes of his face began to change, and raised the vial again in a mocking toast. 'Essence of James Potter,' he declared.

Severus felt himself sway as he looked into the eyes that had haunted him for over ten years, the eyes of the man he could not stop loving, as Lucius groaned in realisation, and Harry and Draco gasped in surprise. Neither boy knew what James Potter had looked like, but they didn't need to guess whose likeness the Dark Lord had taken.

'You're pleased, I can tell,' Riddle declared in triumph, and even the voice was James's. 'Think of it, Severus. When I take this boy,' he shook Harry by the shoulder, 'I shall be your own James forever, and you will love me as you loved him.'

'No...' Snape backed away; he couldn't do this, not this. He turned away in confusion; none of his plans had foreseen this, that Riddle would torture him with James in this way. And yet it was simplicity itself; it was as though he were daring Severus to destroy the man whose blood he had kept alive for him. He was only vaguely aware that a cat had rubbed against his legs, and he found his wand in his hand; as useless as a stick perhaps, but he moved his hand behind his leg slightly to conceal it. He could not do this; he could not destroy James again. He felt his head swim, as Riddle used James's voice to torment him.

'You never looked at me the way you looked at him. I shall truly know the pain of your love now.' Riddle laughed in James's laugh; only the words betrayed him.

*****

Sirius only just managed to stop himself making a disastrous break from cover; he suspected the cat's warning look as she had made her move had helped him there. He found that in his fury he had changed form, but he still knew Charlie had not had long enough; he knew he had to let this continue, a few more minutes was all.

He had watched with mounting alarm as Voldemort had taken what he could only guess was Polyjuice containing some of James Potter's blood he had somehow kept alive in the dragon for almost ten years. Sirius looked on as Lucius had groaned in realisation of what that would do to Severus, even as the two boys had gasped their comprehension. Their reactions were nothing to Severus's; he stood as though he were lost, as though nothing he had done or could ever do would make sense again, as the Dark Lord tormented him beyond his endurance.

Sirius kept dragging his eyes from the scene he was witnessing through the partly open door, for the signal that it would be safe to go to him, the sign that Charlie was in a position to kill the dragon if the Dark Lord fled to it, as both and Snape and Dumbledore suspected he would. He watched from his own private nightmare as Severus bowed his head, all but defeated.

'Use the secret, Draco!' Harry cried from where he stood with Voldemort's hand on his shoulder, in an obscene replica of what father and son would have looked like. 'Don't wait any longer; whatever it is, use it now.'

'You killed my mother, you bastard,' Draco screamed up at Voldemort, his face twisted in rage beyond his years.

'Fuck sake,' Sirius muttered to himself, as his chest tightened at the sight of these two little tigers. 'They're only ten, you fucking bastard.' He stood, willing the boys to keep going until he could go to them, praying for their understanding that standing by in this way was protecting them too, begging their forgiveness for not having been here sooner, as he waited for the signal that the dragon was secure. Not long now, he promised, not long now.

'He's not James. Severus, listen to me, he's not James,' Harry said as he broke away from Voldemort's grasp and tugged at Snape's sleeve.

The Dark Lord ignored him, concentrating now on Draco instead. 'Come, come now, Draco. Why should I kill Narcissa when she bore me such a gift as you?' Riddle laughed James's laugh again, light and warm, but like a spring day in hell. He laughed in the delight of a malicious puppet master, pulling the strings this way and that, to tease the agony of his audience to a climax. 'Your father killed your mother; didn't he tell you? Shame on you, Lucius,' he reproached him in amusement, as though just noticing Malfoy was still there.

'I don't mean the bitch who bore me,' Draco screamed again, and Sirius watched him let out a hiss of rage that made Severus turn, that seem to penetrate the veil of defeat he had shrouded himself with. The boy had broken away from Voldemort too, and he turned to where his father was half-slumped against the wall. He shook his shoulder, willing him to some sort of understanding, as Riddle laughed as though he were permitting the boys to act out their pitiful defiance for as long as he saw fit. 'Lucius ...he killed Delphinia,' Draco cried out, shaking Malfoy again. 'Lucius. She told me. He thought he was killing you ... and he killed her.' He spun to point at Voldemort. 'He killed Delphinia.'

Sirius heard the sharp snap of fury as the magical chains binding Lucius flew across the room, one of them catching Riddle across the face and cutting a deep welt in his cheek. He spurred himself to action, dragons and Charlie Weasley all but forgotten as Lucius grabbed Draco and Severus grabbed Harry, closing the boy's hand on his own wand. It was only then that Sirius realised that however wounded Snape was, the total capitulation had been feigned, like when Voldemort had forced himself upon Snape; his seeming submission was only fuel to the Dark Lord's folly.

*****

Harry felt Snape lunge for him and found himself meeting him halfway, found his own hand under Snape's, around a wand. He felt his mouth open as he pointed the wand at the man, who was dragging himself to his feet, his face contorted in fury. A word came out of Harry's mouth; it sounded like a child's incantation of "abracadabra", one he'd read in countless storybooks, only slightly different, harsher, more defined... real. A green light shot from the wand and the Dark Lord fell backwards again, grasping Snape's arm, and dragging him with him.

The next thing Harry knew, Sirius had burst into the room and there was the sound of men shouting.

'Where ... where did Severus go?' he asked in a whimper, as he found his hand empty again, and the cat disappeared through the door in a blur of black. 'Where did they go? What happened?'

But Sirius had turned to a woman who stood at the door with a tall black man, a tough but kind looking woman in black leather clothing. 'Hestia, get the boys away from here ... Kingsley, come with me. Charlie's going to need help; he's gone to the dragon.'

*****

The Weasley brothers watched the dragon emerge from the hole as though she had been summoned. Charlie held out a glistening lump of red meat, still warm from the butchered carcass he had prepared moments before, the blood just slowing from the shocked veins. The dragon shook its massive head and sniffed the air through the acrid stench of its own body, as Lucius's dogs slipped unnoticed behind it and chewed on its hamstrings. The dragon tried to spin, bellowing in fury and toppling dangerously on its useless legs, as the third Borzoi flew for its exposed jugular vein.

The dragon shook its head again, tossing the massive wolfhound from side to side like a rag doll as the dog's jaws locked on its windpipe and the other two dogs came to its aid. Charlie had just managed to climb onto the dragon's left wing in an attempt to get to the softer under-wing area, where the scales became less horny and more like those of some huge fish, when he heard the door at the top of the stairs being flung open, and something that didn't sound human came howling towards them.

'Now,' Charlie called from his vantage point, and Bill threw him a silver blade that seemed to spin end over end and land neatly in his hand, as something cloudy and black entered the chamber, and the sword of Godric Gryffindor entered the dragon's heart.

*****

'Is he dead?' Draco asked in a tiny voice. He couldn't understand how this had come about. He had obeyed his mother to the letter only throwing Lucius his lifeline, their lifeline, when he was at his limit. He hadn't even known how he had recognised it, although he knew Harry had helped him there, but he had believed Delphinia when she had sworn to him that he would. And Lucius had responded; he had responded in a way that had made Draco so fiercely proud of him that he had tucked that pride away to examine it in a precious private moment. And now Severus lay pale and broken on the hard stone floor, with a dead dragon on one side and a dead Dark Lord on the other, while Sirius knelt over him, and above their heads the sounds of the Death Eaters' last stand were beginning to dwindle into nothing.

'What was it all about?' Lucius asked brokenly as Sirius met his eyes. 'Did Voldemort want Severus so much that he took him with him? But what about us?' he asked, kneeling beside Sirius, and touching the pale slim hand with the long fingers that had been broken so many times that they hardly looked like Snape's own anymore. 'Severus, what about us? We want you too. And there is no price tag on our love.'

'Help me here, Lucius,' Sirius said gently across the prone man. 'I need your help. Kingsley can bring the boys back; they're in no danger.'

*****

Harry couldn't stop shaking; every time he thought it had passed, another tremor started at the top of his head and ran through him. 'Did I do that?' he whispered as he stood at the top of the bed.

'Hush now,' Dumbledore said kindly. 'You have done nothing, Harry, nothing of which you should not be immensely proud.'

'But ... did I do that?' Harry blurted out. He didn't want to cry; he definitely didn't want to cry, but he knew it wasn't far away. He thought that it was the shaking that was keeping the tears at bay. 'I didn't mean it.' He wept at last, and looked around them. Draco stood with his black-haired sister, beside his father, who was seated stiffly and painfully at the wall; Sirius, ashen-faced and Harry suspected trembling every bit as much on the inside as he was on the out, bent over Severus, as Hermione sat crying quietly on a seat with her hand on the werewolf's shoulder.

Harry had no one. He wanted someone to hug him; he needed a hug right now, but there was no one but the frightened little girl with her hand on a wolf's shoulder, and a man who had his heart torn in too many ways to be of any help. There was just the grandfatherly hand of the Headmaster on his shoulder, but that was love by proxy, second-hand affection. Harry had no one but the man lying in the Headmaster's office, too weak and broken to even be moved to the Infirmary, so near to death that Dumbledore had moved the Infirmary to him instead. He drew in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders; what did a few tears matter after all, he could spare a few for Severus Snape, after all he'd given everything he had for them.

Poppy Pomfrey straightened and drew her hands down her starched grey dress. She gave Dumbledore a long look before turning to Sirius and shaking her head. 'There is nothing to be done until he gets some type of strength back,' she said. 'He must be allowed to rest, and the blood I have regenerated into him must be allowed to settle.'

Harry looked at him again; it was almost too much to take in. When Voldemort had died every injury he had inflicted upon Snape had leaked through the illusion of his repairs; only the damage had been real. Breaks upon breaks, wounds upon wounds, until there was no whole bit upon which to anchor. Harry didn't know if there was any magic strong enough to do this. And yet he somehow knew that it was neither the broken bones nor the destroyed body that Dumbledore was worried about; there was something else, something he was frightened to think about. Sirius had straightened too, and Harry watched as his godfather looked to Dumbledore.

'Do not ask me, Sirius.' The Headmaster shook his head once. 'His bones, I suspect, may mend to a degree...' He held up his hand. '...If he has the strength of mind to allow them to. But it is not his broken bones I fear for.'

'His mind?' Sirius asked, and drew a hand across his face.

'No, it is not his mind that's broken, Sirius.' It was Lucius Malfoy who replied from where he sat in his chair at the wall, refusing any ministration for the time being. 'It is his heart.'

*****

'Thinking of running out on us?' the cool voice said from the door of the third floor room where Sirius was throwing his belongings into a leather holdall.

'I need to get away, Remus,' Sirius replied. 'You don't need me now. Nobody does, not really.'

'Thanks for that,' the werewolf replied as he pushed Hermione and Harry inside the door. Sirius could see the other children standing unsurely in the corridor. They had been all but swallowed up in Hogwarts over the last weeks, but Lupin had unearthed them. Dean and Seamus looked at him reproachfully; Parvati and Padma, their hair tied up in thick black braids, held their heads to one side in mild accusation. His little family, as though he were the errant father walking out on his starving children.

'Nice try, Moony,' Sirius said with an attempt at a grin. 'I'm a soldier, though. I need a war to fight. I'm sure I'll find one somewhere.'

'You've got one right here,' Lupin replied, nodding the children away.

'Not me. But you take your chance, Lupin,' Sirius said and sat down at his table. 'Take your chance with Lucius. He's a better man than I ever thought he was. And just think about it; you'd never have to worry about the rent again.'

Lupin smiled. 'I don't think so. We were thrown together by necessity. Let us just say that the itch has been scratched and for now ... well, there was really nothing between us, nothing like what you and Severus have for one another. Lucius's great love was Delphinia, and Severus of course, even if ... well, never mind the even if's; they don't really matter.'

'And so I slip down the pecking order again,' Sirius said. 'There's nothing there, Moony, not on his side. I can't compete, not with James and Lucius and Tom Riddle and whoever else needs him; they don't fight fair. In fact they don't even need to fight back. You know he loved Riddle, don't you? On some level, he loved Riddle too. Anyway, I'm fine.' He smiled the grin he had schooled himself to show to the world for years, and zipped the bag with finality. He slapped Lupin on the back and hefted the bag onto his shoulder. 'I'll send you an owl, Old Wolf.'

'Okay,' Lupin said mildly, as Sirius headed for the door. 'It's just that I thought you really loved him. Just shows you how wrong I can be.'

Sirius turned. 'That's a low shot, Lupin,' he said. 'You know better than anyone else that I did, and I always will.'

'Love is unconditional, Sirius,' Lupin replied. 'True love is. And think for a moment how hard it will be when you have to drag yourself back to him when you realise that for yourself.'

Sirius reflected on that; he had acted it all out in his mind a million times these last ten days, as the wizarding world had rejoiced, and Snape had lain in the Infirmary, responding to nothing but refusing to die. He said nothing.

'And I just thought you might want to know he's awake,' Lupin went on.

The bag slipped unnoticed from Sirius's hand. He only realised his mouth was open when it snapped shut. 'Why ... why didn't tell me right away?' he accused as he turned to the door.

'I just wanted you to understand yourself first,' Lupin called after his disappearing head, as it left the lower landing and began on the next flight of stairs. He wondered if Sirius were sliding down the banister.

*****

As Sirius raced towards the Infirmary he caught sight of Harry, standing on his own, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He'd been okay a few minutes ago; Sirius wondered what had happened.

'What's wrong?' he asked, slowing as Harry turned away. 'What's happened, Harry?'

Harry turned to him again, and Sirius frowned as he saw him smile, a watery, happy smile. 'It's nothing. It's just silly; I shouldn't be crying ...not now.'

'Well, sometimes we cry when we're relieved and happy,' Sirius said, and ruffled his hair affectionately. 'Did you know he was awake before you came up to my room?'

'Yeah, I'd just been to see him.' Harry nodded. 'Sirius, he's asked me to go and see him when Draco goes to Scotland for the holidays. I can go, can't I? Please let me go.'

'Scotland?' Sirius said stupidly. 'Yes ... yes, of course you can. That's really nice, Harry. It'll do you both some good I think.' He turned away and began walking; he wasn't sure where, but it didn't really matter.

'Sirius?' Harry called after him. 'Aren't you going to see him?'

'In a while,' Sirius called over his shoulder. 'He'll have a lot of visitors just now...' He trailed off, unable to go on.

*****

He was tired of the lectures now; he'd had one from Lucius, one from Lupin, a long and terribly tedious one from Dumbledore, and now he'd had a joint effort delivered to him by the two boys who sat in the corner of his room playing a very noisy game of wizard chess. He lit a cigarette and reached for the whisky bottle; it wasn't Dutch courage, he argued to himself, it was just topping up the reservoir, so to speak.

Harry caught his eye across the chessboard and he gave him a sour look back. Little upstart, who did he think he was? Coming in here and playing wizard chess all over his rooms and ... Severus sighed. It was a long walk to the third floor, he reasoned, and Black could very well have left by the time he got there. It was a long walk for nothing, and he'd have to stop two or three times on the way; he didn't even need to pretend that he wasn't really fit enough to take one flight of stairs, never mind the four that stood in his way.

And Black would make a mess; he'd leave socks and things lying around, orange things and yellow things. And he would be noisy. Severus sighed again, and he would laugh that stupid laugh, and grin that inane grin, the Gryffindor one. And he'd take Severus's cigarettes when he ran out of his own, so they would both have none, and would end up fighting about who would go to get more. And he'd be lazy and wouldn't bother to Apparate all the way to Hogsmeade to get the cigarettes Severus liked. And he'd probably bring the Granger girl at the holidays so that she and Cassiopeia could gang up on him. He was only surprised the girls hadn't seen fit to assault him with their own little lecture too; in fact he supposed they were on their way down the corridor right now.

Maybe if he hurried he could miss them.

He stood up, and sighed just once more, giving the boys another resentful look as he made for the door, leaning on his stick more than he really needed to. They favoured him with an "about time too" look back.

He had to stop five times, once at the top of each of the first three staircases and twice on his way between the second and third floor. He had almost totally exhausted himself; sweat was rolling down his back and his breathing was coming in short sharp painful gasps. He hoped Sirius was drunk so he could give him a really good tongue lashing for putting him through this.

*****

Sirius laid the Quidditch magazine aside and lit a cigarette. He had decided to stay on at Hogwarts, even if Harry went to Scotland in the summer; he would at least be here the rest of the time. And Lupin was here; that was a help too. Lupin had told him that Lucius and Severus were going tomorrow, leaving all of the children here for the time being. He supposed he should drag himself down to see the old snake.

He'd only seen him twice since he'd regained consciousness and neither time had turned out very well. Maybe that was an understatement. He'd dosed Severus with accusations on the first visit to the extent that Poppy had thrown him out. It was hardly his fault if the arrogant fuck wanted to take the blame for everything that went wrong in the world and couldn't content himself to let it lie where it fell. The second time had only been slightly worse in that Severus was fit to fight back. He smiled to himself as he recalled Snape's disgust that it had been Dalfrad the Dubious who had given him the idea of how to disappear when he had gone to Little Hangleton disguised as Lucius. Dalfrad had been an Animagus, and his wonderful disappearing act had been a simple combination of two bits of magic, neither of which was terribly complicated. He had translocated himself at the exact same time as he had assumed his Animagus form, and as Dalfrad's form was a mouse, it had worked perfectly. Sirius had rightly supposed there was no good reason why it shouldn't work for him; after all, no one had been looking for a black dog in the garden of the Riddle House.

He hauled himself up from the settee; he'd better go for a shower and a shave first.

He was towelling his hair dry when he smelt smoke; he was sure he'd stubbed his cigarette out. His heart lurched in fear that he'd set fire to his only clean pair of socks. He dashed into the living room and stopped short. Severus had cleared a small area around himself, piling the rubbish around him like a moat; he was shaking his head slowly in ... Sirius wasn't sure if it were despair or disgust.

'I was just tidying up,' he offered, and wrapped the none-too-clean towel around his waist.

Snape changed the shake of his head to a nod. 'I can see that.'

Sirius bent over the table and picked a cigarette from his packet. He wasn't quite sure why Snape was here, but his hopes were heavily outweighed by his expectations. 'I hear you're leaving tomorrow,' he said, squinting through the cloud of smoke. 'I was just getting ready to come down to see you, actually.'

'Really?' Snape said dryly. 'Had I known I shouldn't have taken the trouble to climb four flights of stone stairs.' He hadn't bothered to veil his accusation or resist looking at his stick.

'Why did you?' Sirius asked. 'It was hardly as though I'd let you go without at least saying goodbye.' He let himself hold the black eyes at last. 'I wouldn't have done that.'

'I came to see if you had made any attempt at all at packing this ... this trash,' Snape replied, and looked around himself as though defying anything to creep out of the piles and bite him.

Sirius could see how tired and unwell he was, how the effort of climbing the stairs had exhausted him; even his hair was damp from sweat, and he could see he was stifling a cough. Maybe if he discarded the cigarette that dangled from his thin lips it might help a bit, but Sirius didn't see fit to point that out. He didn't want to ask him to repeat what he thought he'd said, just in case. 'I was just going to,' he replied instead.

Severus nodded again and stood up slowly, flicking the cigarette across the room to where it landed in the fireplace; the ashtrays were full anyway. He looked at the Chudley Cannons socks lying on top of one of the piles and pointed to them. 'Don't bring these with you, Black.' He turned to the door, no longer feigning the need to lean heavily on his stick; it was the only thing holding him upright.

Sirius knew he was almost as well as he ever would be; both Poppy and Dumbledore had told him that. Too much of the damage was too deep; too much had been totally destroyed. The once pale-skinned slim hands were twisted beyond recognition, the flesh scarred and angry, the knotty finger joints bearing testament to the multiple breaks. There was a deep livid wound of puckered flesh on his shoulder where Voldemort and his Death Eaters had stubbed out cigarette after cigarette, most of which had been lit for that express purpose. His kneecaps had been shattered with a hammer when Voldemort had got bored with the general pain of the Cruciatus Curse and had decided that more specific attention was needed on certain areas. All of these and more, much more, had lain hidden behind the illusion of the repairs the Dark Lord had carried out. Like a petulant child destroying a sand castle so he could build it again, so he could knock it down again and build it yet again, until it submitted to the inevitable tide. Perhaps someone should have told him that castles built of sand don't last forever.

'Wait for a while,' Sirius whispered. 'Don't go down the stairs again yet; wait for me. I won't be long.' He watched the black eyes close for a moment in what looked like resignation; he knew it was an indication of his physical weakness that Snape agreed. He'd take this very slowly, Sirius promised himself.

He held the deep dark eyes again and realised something; something had changed. In all of the ruin Voldemort had wreaked on his body something had changed about Severus for the better, and Sirius knew what it was. The pain had gone; he had finally laid his James to rest. The Dark Lord might have destroyed Severus's body, but he hadn't broken anything that mattered.

*****