One wish alone have I

Chapter 10
Hogwarts by night

When I woke up, the first thing that struck me was the fact that I was lying in a bed. I had not slept with my body exposed to the open air since centuries; I was even surprised that I had slept at all. I admitted, however, that the bed was quite comfortable, despite its lack of a firm lid. The second thing that got my attention was the smell. My nose was completely buried into something soft that was impregnated with a most wonderful smell of sandalwood.

“Severus…” I whispered instinctively.

Severus… it was definitely his smell, next to me. I buried my nose a bit further into the smooth fabric. My mind not being fully awake yet, I believed myself to be wrapped in Severus’ embrace, just like he had accepted me at his side on the stretcher. A vague sense of security suggested me that we were not in the deserted building anymore, yet something was not normal. I tried to concentrate and figure out what it was. I cuddled a bit closer and moved my body towards the enticing smell. Then it struck me that his chest, on which my cheek was peacefully resting, was deadly silent. There was no heartbeat in there! I focused all my magical senses… there was no pressure, no vital sign whatsoever!

I fully woke up in a start and, yelping in horror, I sat in the bed. To my surprise, I found no body next to me. All I saw was a pristine white shirt, wrapped around a big pillow that had been placed against me during my sleep. I caressed the shirt nervously, reassuring myself that I had panicked for nothing. I looked around me. I was in a small room with no windows. I was completely surrounded with darkness, except for a small candle that shed a soft trembling light, next to my bed.

I first thought I was in a dungeon. The memories I had were so confused! I did remember landing on the grass somewhere close to Hogwarts, but then there was a gap between that moment and the moment I had found myself in a strange room. It was definitely not the one I was in; that, I could tell. Someone had slapped me… but then I had experienced a very sensual and intense pleasure right after. My memories barely started to rearrange themselves in the right order when a woman entered the room.

She was dressed like a nurse, a nurse from the Magical world, and not like a dungeon guard, to my relief. I could see, through the trembling light of the candle, that she was of a certain age. She walked to me and said:

“I see that you are finally awake! I was starting to really worry about your state. I thought I would have to throw you a few Stimulant spells to help you emerge from your sleep.”

I vaguely recognized the authoritarian voice I had heard after our arrival.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to sound as calm as I could.

“From what I was told, you travelled all the way from Transylvania to England Transfigured into an eagle and carrying Severus with you. Given the complete exhaustion state in which Hagrid found you, lying down on the school grounds, you had not taken much rest during your journey. He brought you here, along with Severus, and some members of the school staff were alerted at once and met us here. You kept emerging from a Blood-deprivation shock and became very aggressive at some point. You even Transfigured into a tiger and gave us quite a good fright.”

“I wanted to defend Severus,” I commented, apologetically. “I was very confused; I did not know if you were enemies or not.”

“I think the fact you wanted to defend him was very obvious,” she commented with a faint smile. “Fortunately for us, the Headmaster forced you back into your original form before you could hurt anybody.”

“That is when I panicked…” I remembered.

“Yes. You seemed very distressed by the fact I was helping Severus walk away from you. You kept calling for him until he finally calmed you down.”

“He… he gave me his blood…” I murmured, caressing my lips dreamily with my fingertips.

“He most irresponsibly did!” she snapped in a disapproving voice. “We could have waited a little longer to find you some Blood potion in Hogsmeade; you still had the luxury of waiting an hour or two! But Severus impulsively limped to my desk and managed to get a scalpel and a goblet. When I saw what he had in his hands, it was too late for me to try talking him out of it; he had already cut himself.”

“That was most generous from him, especially after the shock he went through…” I murmured, more for myself than for my bedside companion. “Still, his taste has faded away. Have you given me something else since then?”

“Of course my lass!” she said, her eyes still glittering with reproachful thoughts about Severus’ behaviour. “Hagrid went out to buy some Blood potion as soon as the stores opened in Hogsmeade. I have been feeding you myself since the last three days.”

“Has it been that long?” I asked in astonishment.

“You have been sleeping most of the time. During the first day, we could barely control you. You kept falling in and out of a very agitated sleep or trance, probably because of the after-effects of the Blood-deprivation shock or the consequences of your exhaustion. You started panicking as soon as you could not hear Severus’ voice answer your calls. The following afternoon, when I told him that you were still agitated, he had the idea to give me the shirt he was wearing. I wrapped it around a pillow and placed it next to you; you calmed down at once and have been sleeping since.”

I blushed very intensely while I heard about my silly reaction… and what had put an end to it. The light was so dim in the room that I doubt she noticed. I did apologize, however, as sincerely as I could.

“Don’t worry about that, my dear! I have seen much more difficult patients since I began working here, believe me! Your Severus has been one of the worst! He totally refused to stay in the hospital wing more than one day; he insisted to go back to his quarters as soon as his condition proved to be stable enough. I got him to take sufficient amounts of Blood-replenishing potion, that’s a beginning.”

“Has she really said your Severus?” I thought, blushing even more.

“I am happy to hear that he is recovering well,” I said, trying to limit my enthusiasm. “How are his wounds?”

“The bite marks are almost gone; the open fracture is healing very well. The magical bounds you conjured were really delicate, a real work of art! I have always said that women should be specifically assigned to surgery positions!”

I giggled. I started to really like that woman who, at first impression, did not seem easily approachable. Her pale greyish blue eyes shone with much tension and authority, yet when you took the time to really look at them, they proved to be twinkling with intelligence and vivacity of mind.

“Well, it is a pleasure to have my work commented by a colleague! Believe it or not, however, I got that technique from my father.”

And for half an hour or so, we chatted about that time, very long ago, when I followed my father on battlefields, despite my mother’s total disapproval to see such a young little girl witness the atrocities of war. My father always hid me under a Camouflage spell, of course, which distressed quite a few soldiers who thought they were hallucinating when they saw bandages float in midair next to my father. I just loved to be at his side during those moments; he looked so powerful to my young eyes that I knew he would always manage to protect me against anything that could possibly happen to me there. With that naïve trust, I could fully learn all the little tricks he used, while dealing with his patients’ pain or some tricky injuries.

In return, Poppy told me about her first years of medical studies. Unlike me, she had been able to get a formal education, being born in the right century, which had obviously not been my case. I remember we laughed to tears while she told me about how nervous she was on her first practicum day, during which a whole classroom of very young witches and wizards accidentally drank water in which a Shrinking potion had been spilled. Retrieving all of them, while they were running everywhere under desks and chairs, had been a nightmare. Poppy told me with a certain pride that she had been the one to find a solution when she had thrown a diffuse Levitating charm on the whole room, making all the miniature students float peacefully in midair. The Healers had only had to pick them one by one to administer them the antidote.

“Students can be impossible to discipline at times even in full size; imagine when they are five centimetres high! Oh and we had quite a fright when we thought we had accidentally walked on one of them, because after all those who were floating had been healed, there was still a student missing!”

“By Cerridwen, what happened?” I exclaimed.

“We tried not to panic at first, but to tell you the truth, I was mortified. It lasted the whole day; the room was secured so nobody could risk walking in there before we would have found the student; but there was no trace of her. I did find her at last, when I got undressed before going back home. Believe it or not, she had managed to curl up in the hem of my hat and was peacefully taking a little nap, waiting for me to discover her!”

A low and insistent voice, echoing from the next room, interrupted our pleasant conversation. Poppy rose to her feet at once and went out to see what the noise was about. She came back minutes later.

“It was Severus; he called by the Floo network to inquire about your recovery. He has been doing it every two hours or so since he left the hospital wing.”

“Really?” I asked, feeling a tingling sensation in my stomach.

“Yes. And he came all by himself to deliver that shirt there, despite his injury,” she explained, with a strange kind of warmth in her voice.

“That is certainly very kind of him,” I answered, as composedly polite as I could be.

“My Severus…” I thought, stroking absentmindedly the shirt’s fabric with my fingertips.

“I have taken the time to alert the Headmaster about your condition. He said he was coming at once.”

“Will Severus come too?”

“Thank you, Poppy. What time is it?”

“A quarter past nine. You have been sleeping for about sixty-three hours.”

“Wow… I do not think it has happened since, wait… probably not since the 19th century! At least I do feel rested,” I ironically replied.

“I have taken care of your shoulder, too. With the Blood potion, the healing process was greatly accelerated. Will you let me take a look before the Headmaster gets here?”

While the nurse made a medical check on my shoulder, I found myself burning to ask more questions about Severus’ health and recovery. Poppy had not told me much and, having been used to be one of the only persons to take care of him during the last months, I was very concerned. But Poppy’s strange suggestions and comments intimidated me a little; I did not want her to have false impressions about my relationship with him or the feelings he evoked, in me. Those had received quite a few shocks during the last weeks and I was not even sure I could really describe them with accuracy. I decided to remain silent.

That is when my eyes finally set on the clothes I was wearing. In a start, I realised that I was dressed with a long nightgown made of red and green tartan plaid. I would not say that it looked worse than the sleeping outfit I was given before I went in the surgery room in that Muggle hospital where Severus was treated, but it gave it quite a fair competition.

“Minerva sent me that nightgown for you right after your arrival.”

“Minerva! Of course, I should have known better!” I giggled. “She still has a thing for that kind of pattern, I see, unless this is a really old nightgown. Back in the time I saw her more often, she had a strong preference for it. I guess you just cannot deny your origins!”

“I guess…” she agreed, with a teasing smile.

“I cannot wear that in front of the Headmaster, though.”

“Oh, I don’t think he would mind much! He has his own very personal style too, as you probably know.”

“Still… what have you done with my clothes?”

“The blouse was a total loss. The scratch could have been repaired, but the stains were very resistant. I had to throw it away. Your pants are in the drawer next to your bed. As for the top, it will be my pleasure to lend you one of my blouses, unless you would prefer a robe?”

I simply shrugged my shoulders, telling her that I would rely on her judgement and generosity. In fact, a very appealing idea had flashed in my mind, making any piece of clothing less interesting than the one I saw, out of the corner of my eyes. Poppy walked out, telling me she would be back with a few pieces of clothing, leaving me alone to get dressed. As I put my pants on, I hesitated. I felt like a child in front of a particularly big cookie jar; I craved to just hold out my hand and grab the object of my interest, yet had an equally strong feeling that I absolutely did not have the right to. I foolishly debated the question like this, standing in front of the bed, but at last my most mischievous persona put an end to my inner conversation.

“If he was at ease with the fact I was sleeping with it, I guess he would not mind me actually wearing it…” I thought.

I quickly unbuttoned the shirt, which had been carefully placed around the pillow, recreating someone else’s presence as accurately as possible. I smile as I write this; I still felt like a child doing something forbidden. My fingers manipulated each button in a complete hurry, I even wonder if they were not in fact trembling a little. After a last moment of hesitation, I draped the shirt around my shoulders and, much slower and holding my breath, I slid each of my arms in the sleeves. The fabric was wonderfully soft; I recognised a silk of high quality. With a startle, I worried that my wound would bleed and stain what was probably a very expensive piece of clothing, but I remembered how many nights had passed since I had closed the wound with magical bounds and was reassured.

In respectful and measured moves, I buttoned the shirt all the way up then, with a giggle, decided to expose a bit more of my neck and upper chest than its owner used to do. Surprisingly, the shirt almost fit me like a glove; it was just a tad too large and long for me and definitely cut in a masculine style. I pressed the collar against my cheeks with both of my hands and took a deep breath. Severus’ smell, still completely impregnated in the fabric, surrounded me and ravished my senses. For the first time, I let myself be deeply moved by that enticing smell, thinking with a certain mischievous pleasure that my own smell was slowly getting mixed with his, with each passing second. In a quick move, I raised my arms and took my hair out of the shirt. A long shiver ran down my spine as I felt the tip of my breasts rub gently against the silky shirt. My nipples reacted quickly to the touch and hardened, pushing even more against the fabric. I honestly cannot tell how far this little game would have gone if a discreet knock on the door had not stopped my hands, which were dangerously aiming for the two small lumps on the front of the shirt.

“Yes?” I said, putting both of my hands down.

“Really, Antanasia, where did that come from?”

“It’s me,” said a feminine voice. “The Headmaster is here; he is waiting in my office. Can I come in?”

“Yes, please do,” I said, opening the door, “I have found something that will suit me very well for tonight.”

Poppy looked slightly surprised to find me dressed the way I was, but she had the delicateness of asking no questions. I know I have often rambled on about those Brits, but I must admit that they do have a remarkable sense of discretion. The nurse simply put some folded blouses, skirts and pants on the bed and said:

“Before you can buy yourself some outfits, you can pick in these. Please feel free to Transfigure anything that does not match your tastes, I really don’t mind.”

“Thank you, it really touches me.”

“Don’t mention it,” she concluded, with the authoritarian tone I had heard her use right after my arrival.

“Ah… those Brits!”

The Headmaster was waiting for me indeed, when I entered the nurse’s office. I had not really met Professor Dumbledore often during my time in the Order; most of the time, Arnaud and I had received news or mission orders by a messenger, usually Minerva or Ivantie. Nevertheless, I always felt at ease with the old man. His being displayed many characteristics of my kind, though in a contradictory way. His physiognomy was that of an old man, yet there was this expression in his eyes that always underlined how young he felt, in fact, in the depths of his heart. I have always thought that Albus Dumbledore loves his job so much because it allows him to keep his inner child alive; that child is dancing in his electrifying blue eyes almost all the time. It is therefore not surprising that his students like him so much!

“Antanasia… it has been such a while, hasn’t it?” he said, rising from his seat and holding me his hand.

“It has… I wish we had parted, and reunited, under happier circumstances,” I replied, regretting immediately the pessimistic tone that tainted my words.

He did not reply, but looked at me with his usual twinkle. I did successfully hide the flush of heat I felt burning my cheeks, being unable to find another cause for his expression than the possibility that he might have noticed the shirt… and the aroused skin underneath. Some things that happened after that night suggest that I probably have misinterpreted his thoughts, but one never really knows. He pulled a chair for me and sat back in the chair he was in when I entered.

“Have I put the school in trouble? Has anybody seen me?”

“No, please do not worry about that, Antanasia. Only the senior staff saw you; the rest was briefly informed that we have a special guest at Hogwarts who must neither be discussed of nor disturbed. For once, I think everybody observed a complete discretion.”

“I might have messed up our arrival, but at least I did not mess everything,” I thought, sighing in relief.

“I guess you came here to talk about what happens from now?”

“Indeed,” he said, smiling.

“My intention has never been to abuse from your hospitality. I would have preferred to do things in a more civilized way, but—”

“But your priority was to get Severus back here, and you did that very well,” he interrupted warmly. “I am very grateful to you for that, and so is the Order.”

“Is he?”

“Thank you, Headmaster. Have you been informed of the events that happened at Zaharia? I think I kept Severus well informed, especially during the last month he spent with us.”

“Yes. He told me all the details during the last few days.”

A long silence passed between us. I was waiting for him to give me news about Severus’ well being; he was waiting… I do not know what!

“I hope it does not give you a negative opinion about the Clan; Marilena clearly abused from a power she was slowly losing. It does not mean that we all agreed with her.”

“Clearly not, for you are here,” he commented, with the same smile. “I am very aware that each and every species is constituted with many, many varieties of people whose value can absolutely not be evaluated on the basis of their leaders. The Magical world is a particularly eloquent illustration of that point.”

“If you say so,” I replied, letting his smile spread over my own lips, before it died when my thoughts came back to my kind. “The unfortunate fact remains, however, that the Clan chose to turn to Lord Voldemort instead of the Order, this time.”

“I feared it might happen; we knew of McNair’s visit to a brood in Hungary and a Clan in Russia. The Order is prepared for the worse; which gets us back to your presence here.”

“I know, I will not put the school at risk any longer. I will leave tonight and find a place to stay until I decide what to do. I might leave the country… or stay somewhere in England. I have no idea right now, but I am sure I will eventually find out,” I answered affirmatively.

“Antanasia, by no means I came here to ask you to leave. On the contrary, I would offer you to stay here as our guest as long as you wish, if it only depended on me. Unfortunately, it does not. Severus has been contacted by Voldemort; he will meet him the night after tomorrow, with other Death Eaters. They want a report about his diplomatic visit to Zaharia; we have been preparing that since yesterday. Apparently, Marilena has not contacted them yet.”

“That is not surprising. She would lower herself if she went to him directly after he sent one of his men to one of her vassals instead of her. The best option she has is to secure an alliance with the Russian Clan leader, Pietr. Last time I heard her talk about it, she was planning a meeting with him somewhere in November. I do not see how the recent events would make her rush things. After Pietr and her reach an agreement, I guess they will also contact the Dark Lord together with a common offer… and secretly send an owl or a messenger to make sure their own independent replies reach him, too. There is a risk that Marilena might inform the Dark Lord through Kerecsen about Severus’ official allegiance to the Order and what she did to him. It would greatly support the seriousness of her offer… and make you lose your double agent, with very much unwanted consequences.”

“I am very aware of that; so is Severus. But for now, the important thing to remember is that both Clans are in no hurry to send any official proposition to the Dark Lord. The patience of your kind is something I particularly appreciate on this occasion; it gives us valuable extra time, at least a month. The thing that worries me the most at the moment is your safety, not Severus’.”

“Which is why I see how urgent it is that I leave Hogwarts at once; if Marilena really wants her warriors to find me, she will send them right here. I have not met any of them since we left Transylvania, but there is still a risk and I do not want your students, or staff, to be exposed to that risk unnecessarily.”

“Which is why I have a proposition to make, Antanasia,” he said, raising both of his hands as if he wanted to stop me from running away. “I might even have a few of them, if you would be so kind to listen to them.”

“I am all ears,” I replied.

“Severus told me that you seemed inclined to help the Order, from what you told him during your conversations, at Zaharia. That might have changed; I could very well understand that coming back in the Order would bring many painful memories to the surface.”

“Those memories have taken quite a few different turns, since two months, Professor Dumbledore. I am ready to provide any help that the Order might need, you can count on me now just as much as you could count on Arnaud and me in the past.”

“Thank you, your help is greatly needed indeed. But if you decide to join the Order, please call me Albus from now on, when there is no student around.”

“I will,” I said, smiling.

“Good. As I said, I have a few propositions for you. I initially thought that you could stay at Hogwarts, but Severus argued that it was not in your best interest to stay here. All depends on the role you are ready to take, in the Order. We still have to complete Severus’ report to the Dark Lord, which will be done in a meeting, tomorrow night. Severus will have to explain, one way or the other, why he stayed in Romania for nearly three months, neglecting his work and not giving news to anybody. One of the options is to tell a part of the truth and talk about his imprisonment. But then there are many possible explanations for his imprisonment. That will be discussed tomorrow at the meeting; your suggestions will undoubtedly be very precious.”

“I will certainly think about the matter tonight.”

“The biggest question we have to debate is whether or not Severus should tell the Dark Lord about you.”

“What? Is that even an option? I thought Severus was sent to murder me, seventeen years ago?” I exclaimed.

“That is what he told me, too, and I have no reason to believe that he was not telling the truth,” he calmly replied. “However, while telling me that, Severus also gave me a most precious information. Though your reputation among the Death Eaters was one of a powerful witch and redoubtable opponent, very few of them really ever saw your face. Those who did either died in Azkaban or were too plunged in the dark to really be able to describe you to the Dark Lord. To this day, Severus is the only Death Eater who can properly describe you; that gives us an advantage.”

“But Severus had the occasion to see me very clearly, the morning he came to me for the first time. He did not report anything?”

“After your first encounter, he came back to his master in shame; he reported many things, but not your appearance. It did not matter much to the Dark Lord at the time, from what Severus told me. Tom does not react very well to failure, I am afraid,” he explained, with a lugubrious glare in his eyes.

“I know… Severus told me a few words about the fate he met when he came back to Voldemort…” I said, looking down. “I still do not see the reason to debate about making my presence here known to him, though. If he sent one of his Death Eaters to kill me, he surely knew my name if he did not know my appearance.”

“He did know your name, indeed! But most of us, as we were not talking to you often at the time, did not call you by your first name, but by your late husband’s last name. Lord Voldemort only has information about that name, fortunately.

“It is true… you were always calling me Mrs Marechal, at the time. I have not heard it since then, I think…” I commented, trying to keep my composure despite the stinging sensation Arnaud’s name had left when it brushed against my heart.

“That fact leaves us a few possibilities, Antanasia,” he continued, after a respectful pause. “Severus might make Voldemort believe that he convinced you to join the Death Eaters; we could have a certain control over his contacts with Zaharia if you claim to be your Clan’s emissary. But it does not have to go that far; Severus might also simply introduce you as a new ally. These details still need to be determined tomorrow. You will have a choice to make, though, and I suggest you give it some thoughts, too, tonight.”

“I will,” I simply replied.

“Whether or not you decide to make your presence known to Voldemort or not, it would be safer for you to live elsewhere. And it would give you a better lifestyle than hiding in the hospital wing here or stroll along the corridors during the night. I have made arrangements for you to live in the Order headquarters. I have prepared the address for you,” he said, giving me a small piece of parchment. “The house is protected with a Fidelius Charm and I am the Secret Keeper; just memorize the address so you can access the house when we get to London, then burn the parchment.”

“Thank you,” I said, still unsure about what my feelings were towards Dumbledore’s generous offer.

“Somebody else lives there, since the very unfortunate death of the house’s owner four months ago. The house is rather big, I think you should find it roomy enough for the two of you.”

“Headmaster… Albus, this is really generous, but I do not want to abuse from your hospitality,” I articulated.

“Believe me, I wish I could do more,” he said, putting a comforting hand over mine. “And after all, it is not my hospitality that is offered to you there. I am sure you will get along well with the new owner of the house. You and him have a lot to offer… to each other,” he added, with a mysterious twinkle in the corner of his eyes.

I did not reply, but rose to my feet and accompanied him to the door. Some questions about Severus burned my lips again, but I refrained from phrasing them, trying to rely on what was apparently our legendary patience.

“By the way,” he said, turning back on the doorstep with a mischievous smile, “Poppy might have told you that Severus reintegrated his quarters the night after your arrival.”

“She did; how is he?” I finally asked.

“He is recovering very well, thanks to you. He started walking again today, though he still needs a walking stick. Which he only uses in his quarters, as you can very well imagine,” he continued, with the same mischievousness.

“I am glad to hear that!” I exclaimed, with a cheerfulness that was a bit more obvious than intended.

“He will resume his teaching tomorrow morning, fortunately for me. My workload was dangerously piling up; replacing him proved to be a lot of work.”

“How is his mood, Albus?”

“I would not make too many hypotheses about that, however,” he calmly stated, though his eyes were still glimmering. “He has spent almost all of his time locked in his quarters, giving precise orders about not being disturbed for any reason and under any circumstances. From what I know of him, it is better not to disturb him indeed, unless one wants to have his or her life considerably shortened.”

“I see,” I only replied, feeling disappointed.

“I guess you will see him tomorrow; he will take you to the headquarters as soon as his responsibilities allow him to leave the school. Nevertheless, you should not stay locked in here, in the meantime. The night has fallen since many hours and the students are all in their dormitories… I suppose. Why don’t you take a look around? I am sure you would enjoy a little walk, either in the castle or on the grounds. The works of art on the fifth and sixth floors are particularly original; you might want to take a look.”

“That is a great idea, Albus; I think I will do just that. I might get a little bit of fresh air, too.”

“Good night, then, Antanasia,” he said, walking out.

After a brief conversation with Poppy and a cup of Blood potion, I went out for a walk in Hogwarts corridors. Most of the students were in their common rooms; I only met a strangely dressed woman with enormous glasses and an impressive amount of untidy hair who looked very surprised to see me there. She kept staring at me with a mixed expression of amusement, wonder and fear, then nodded knowingly and walked away. I even felt a certain condescendence emanate from her, as she turned to me one last time before disappearing in a turn.

I chose to look at the paintings on the fifth floor first. I had a memorable conversation with a statue of a wizard named Boris who kept explaining how sorry he felt about events that happened to him when I was not even born. Fortunately for me, he was completely stuck in his pedestal and could not follow me when I continued my way, tired of his litanies. Nevertheless, it did not help my mood much.

To be honest, I felt quite depressed, walking alone like that in silent corridors. The most salient thing I had in mind was how lonely I felt. Severus’ regular calls to the hospital wings had brought some warmth into my heart, yet he had not manifested any interest to see me in person… to the point of sending a piece of clothing to comfort me instead of coming to the hospital wing by himself. His kind attention seemed to lose a bit of its charm, all of a sudden. I felt ridiculous with his shirt on my back, yet absentmindedly wrapped my arms around my chest while leaning against a window frame. Just to feel it tighter against my skin.

I thought about Dumbledore’s offer. I agreed with him that it was not a good idea to keep me in Hogwarts if I had no use there, especially if some cainites were still after me. But living in the Order headquarters meant living away from Severus. A part of me suffered, when I considered that possibility. He was the closest person from me, even if it did not mean much… even if his silence hurt me, that night. I foolishly believed that we would have the possibility to continue our occasional conversations, from time to time, just like we did when he was at Zaharia. I had grown quite fond of these privileged moments I spent with him. What a foolish little childe I was…. That was precisely what was clouding my judgement, at the moment.

I resumed my walking and thought about the implication I wanted to have in the Order. The most sensitive part of my soul whispered me that enrolling in the Order once again, given what had happened to Arnaud, would be very painful. Yet despite that pain, even seventeen years before, I had kept the Magical world’s interests at heart; that had not changed. In addition, Dumbledore seemed to think that I had the occasion to do even more for the Order. That perspective pleased me; I had been left with a strong feeling of unfinished business, when I had fled from England last time.

“At least, Antanasia, that would be better than finding a small job in an Apothecary store to make yourself a living!” I thought.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost walked right into a miniature swamp, surrounded by a small piece of rope. I had seen so many unexpected things in the castle that I was not surprised by my discovery. I assumed it was some student’s prank. I was examining it a bit closer when something caught my attention. Something was moving on the floor, something very small. A discreet croaking sound immediately informed me about the nature of my strange encounter.

“A toad? What can a toad possibly do hopping on the carpet? Is Hogwarts really that badly kept?” I thought.

I kneeled down and attracted the little animal towards me. In a few hops, it jumped right into my hands. Its plump silhouette suggested me that it was not living in a swamp nearby, feeding on occasional flies that would unfortunately meet his deadly tongue. That little fellow was too well fed; he most probably belonged to someone.

“Hello there, little one!” I softly said. “That is not a time to be walking alone in deserted corridors! Have you lost your way or did you come to meet me? Or are you in fact my prince and I should give you a little kiss, mmmh?”

My prince came to me seconds later, even without me having to kiss the toad. And that little prince came dressed most charmingly in pale cotton pyjamas and a pair of slippers. Being in the position I was in, I saw the slippers first and gasped. My glance went up long frail legs, a juvenile torso flanked with a pair of thin arms that seemed far too long for him. Finally, my eyes gazed upon the sweet face of an adolescent, a round, charmingly freckled face that was becoming thinner with maturity. His eyes were dark and kind, like those of a faithful Labrador. His ears were a tad large and his teeth were definitely not perfect, but I loved his tiny mouth and his noble forehead. That young man seemed as sweet as honey, it just emanated from his whole being; I doubted that any darkness could ever creep inside of his soul. That soon made me forget the little imperfections of his physiognomy.

He seemed quite surprised to see me there. He looked like he was torn between a first feeling of warmth for me, but I saw his nostrils quiver while they picked a scent that definitely evoked a most primal fear, in him. I first thought that he had realised I was a cainite and was scared that I might Kiss him, but it occurred to me that I was most impertinently staring at him since a few minutes. No matter what was causing his surprise or fear, he seemed to be nervous; the light at the tip of his wand flickered incessantly at the end of his unsteady hand.

“Good evening, Mister,” I said, in the sweetest voice I could find. “I see that I am not the only one to have trouble sleeping!”

“I couldn’t sleep… I… I realised that Trevor was missing,” he said, uncomfortably.

“Oh, is Trevor the name of this gentleman?” I asked happily.

“Yes, he is my pet… he keeps escaping all the time!”

“He is your pet? Oh, how disappointing! I thought I had finally met my prince, there! Hey, but maybe I have, after all!” I said, smiling and twinkling at him.

The boy blushed profusely, but seemed to ease up a little. I handed him his toad and added:

“Trevor is really rude, you know. He has not even introduced us properly! My name is Antanasia.”

“Mine is Neville Longbottom, Mrs Antanasia,” he said, shaking the hand I offered him.

“You may just call me Antanasia; it is used as a first and a last name. You are a student, here?”

“Yes, I’m in my sixth year.”

“Which house are you in, then?”

“Griffyndor… are you a teacher?” he asked timidly.

“No, unfortunately not!” I giggled. “I guess you could consider me as a temporary guest.”

“I should go back to the dormitory at once before a teacher actually finds me. I have already caused Griffyndor to lose fifteen points this week.”

“Really? Points are still used today? How fascinating! They used it when I was a student in Hogwarts, too!”

“You were a student here before?” he asked, looking at me with a strange astonishment in his eyes.

“Yes I was! Come with me, I will see if I remember the way to get to the Fat Lady,” I suggested, walking forward in the corridor. “And that way, I will be able to save Griffyndor some points if we do stumble upon a teacher… or worse! If I remember well, there are worse things in these corridors, at night.”

“Such as?”

“When I was a student here, teachers released what they called night guardians at strategic places in the school corridors. They were strange creatures; part feline, part reptilian. They had a remarkable capacity to see in the dark and could move really fast. They spread in corridors in the shape of a thick dark smoke and could even travel from one room to the other by sliding in the gap underneath doors or through keyholes. They were very well trained to insure the protection of the school, but when they were on the hunt, at night, it was in your best interest not to come nose to nose with one of these creatures. Do they still use them here?”

“Not that I know of… I think…” he answered hesitantly, looking around him worriedly.

“Too bad! Those creatures have long been believed immortal; they live for centuries! I wish I could have a little chat with the one who caught me in the restricted section of the library at the end of my fifth year, just before the end of year feast… Merlin! It made us lose the House Cup to Hufflepuff!”

I did not tell him exactly what I was doing in the restricted section after the OWL exams, of course. My first kiss… clumsy, but so passionate, after months and months of mounting tension and raging hormones… back to the time when my age was still expressed in two-digits numbers…. Andrew… such a wonderful kisser…. A dreamy smile floated on my lips before he talked.

“We have that kind of creature here, except it is more feline than reptilian. It is Mrs Norris, the –oops, turn left here, Madam– the caretaker’s cat. She patrols the corridors all the time, trying to send students in detention.”

“Always unfairly, I guess?” I teased.

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

We chatted for a few more minutes about how we had respectively managed to make our House lose points. I noted that most of his exploits in that domain were usually taking place in his Potions lessons, but I did not really have time to make him elaborate more; the Fat Lady stirred in her frame, ahead of us, when she heard our footsteps.

“By Michelangelo, you look familiar!” she said, when she saw me.

“I might, but I doubt you would really remember me. Thousands of students have passed in front of you since last time I did.”

“No, no; I have a very good memory for these things!” she argued happily.

“Well, my appearance may have changed since my adolescence!”

“Still! There is something in your features…” she insisted.

“I do not want to keep M. Longbottom here waiting any longer; he must be very tired at this time of the night.”

“Longbottom… now that tells me something,” I thought.

Neville fumbled in his pyjamas pockets, looking for his password. Unfortunately for me, that gave the Fat Lady plenty of time to submerge me with family name guesses.

“O’Connor? Donoghue? One of the McFarlanes, the ones who lived in Yorkshire?”

“No, you are still very, very far!” I patiently said, smiling as naturally as I could.

“I have it!” said Neville triumphantly. “Cumulonimbus!”

“Thank you Cerridwen!” I thought, while the Fat Lady moved aside, still babbling about family names even if I did not reply anymore.

“Well, Mister Longbottom, it has been a pleasure to chat with you tonight. And about Mister Trevor here,” I said, scratching the toad’s chin gently. “What plants do you grow in his terrarium?”

“Some common aquatic plants… Horsetails, some Marsilea quadrifolia and Liverworts.”

“Really? You grew that all by yourself?” I asked, surprised at the botanical skills of a man so young.

“Yes… at first, I did not know how to keep them alive for long, so I always had to buy new ones. But during the last few years, I have been able to use the appropriate Climate-simulation charms and keep them stable enough.”

“Impressive… but then that is precisely where your problem is!”

“How so?”

“Think… in which season are the Liverworts most actively growing?” I prompted.

“End of spring,” he immediately and confidently replied. “From May to the beginning of June, approximately.”

“Exactly! And I guess this is precisely the climate you recreated, with your Climate-simulation charms?”

“Yes… but I still don’t see how it could cause Trevor to escape all the time.”

“My dear Mister Longbottom, if you keep that nice gentleman here living in that kind of climate, surrounded by active Liverworts… you send him a very particular message. May and June are his reproduction months and Liverworts’ characteristic smell, during that period, specifically stimulates him for that. Trevor keeps escaping because he is desperately looking for a mate!”

“Really?”

“I think that could very well explain a part of your problem. I know Liverworts are very pretty in a terrarium, but I suggest you remove them or simply replace them with something else. Common moss, for example. And you should change your Climate-simulation charms to make them fit the climate of late July-August. If it does not solve the problem, it could at least make things better.”

“Thank you! I will try that,” he said with a warm smile.

That is when it hit me. These little dimples, almost right in the middle of his cheeks when he smiled... Longbottom was a familiar name indeed! I was talking to Alice’s son! I suddenly had the urge to ask him some news about that wonderful witch who had been so supportive during our trip to Poland, seventeen years ago, but fortunately for both of us, the thought that I would have to explain how I knew her stopped me in time. I said nothing about it, but smiled even more cheerfully. If I had known… if I had known…

“I will ask you to tell no one about me, Neville,” I said, using mild hypnotic charms to make sure he would obey me. “My presence in the castle has to remain as discreet as possible, but I will allow you to remember me. In fact, I hope we will have the pleasure to chat again one of these nights!”

“I will do as you ask, Madame.”

“Thank you Neville. Now go to your bed and lie down comfortably. Just murmur my name and you will fall asleep at once.”

“I will. Good night!” he said, climbing in the hole behind the Fat Lady, who closed the entrance behind him.

“Sure? No Flannigan in your family?” she added, as if our conversation had never been interrupted.

I only wished her a good night and walked away. Thinking about memories of the time I had shared with Neville’s mother, I went down the staircase and stopped, lost in my thoughts, halfway between the seventh and sixth floor. I did not really have a precise destination in mind, so I negligently leaned against the banister. I was wondering what Alice might have become and if her Auror responsibilities had allowed her to give Neville a brother or sister, as she wished, when the staircase moved very abruptly, plunging me head first in the emptiness in front of me. Thanks to my reflexes and years of training in Zaharia before the Russian war, I was able to regroup my limbs, flip and safely land on a staircase below, on the fourth floor.

He was locking the library door when I saw him. He did not even startle when he heard my feet hit the stone, but turned back at once, wand at the ready. Recognizing me, he put his wand back in his pocket and limped towards me with his books stuck under his arm… along with his walking stick. Just as I expected, his set face did not show the smallest trace of the pain his pride was inflicting him with each step. I tried not to blush when his eyes, deprived of what had slowly become their usual welcoming glimmer, moved from my face to the shirt I was wearing.

“Severus! What an unexpected pleasure!” I said joyfully, torn between the urge to jump down the staircase and the impression that my feet were completely stuck to it. “I see that you are walking again! How is your leg?”

“Why didn’t you come visit me at the hospital wing when you knew I was awake?” I thought, running my hand through my hair to remove them from my face.

“What are you doing here at this time of the evening?” he asked, rising an eyebrow.

“Poppy set me free for the night, she is satisfied with my condition; Albus suggested me to have a little tour, to enjoy some works of art… I stumbled upon many old memories, on the way! The Fat Lady almost recognized me, in return!”

“Have you been here before?” he asked, rising a second eyebrow.

“You are talking to one of the 1731 Promotion alumni, my friend,” I declared. “I do not blame you if you do not remember; I do not think you were teaching at the time… though I might be wrong,” I joked.

I do not know whether it is my calling him a friend or the tease about his age, but he snorted very derisively, and murmured:

“Of course… I should have known better.”

If I had known the real reason for his reaction, I would only have giggled and not minded his derisive attitude. But given my ignorance of his old and much expected grudges against the Griffyndor house in which he wrongly thought I was, I only concluded that he did not appreciate my jokes and that I had made a fool of myself. That put me on guard and immediately made me go right back in my shell, so to speak. To make things worse, he told me, in a very unsatisfied tone:

“I see that you are wearing my shirt…”

“Yes! Poppy told me that mine was so badly stained that she had to throw it away.”

“Oh Merlin, he minds! What have I done?”

“I am very surprised that neither Madame Pomfrey nor Minerva lent you some clothes,” he answered, apparently too happy to keep me in an uncomfortable position.

“They did; it only appears that their tastes do not really match mine.”

“Well in that case, I guess your Transfiguration skills will prove to be particularly useful, Antanasia,” he replied, in a displeasingly silky tone. “After Transfiguring a handkerchief into a blanket and a shirt into a cloak, adding or removing a few ribbons and frills should be ridiculously easy.”

“I guess so,” I replied, trying to match his tone… and doing poorly at it.

“Then let me guess, in return, that I did not make it clear enough to Madame Pomfrey that my shirt was to be used only in attempt to control the most displeasing symptoms of your Blood-deprivation hysteria.”

“I think she understood it perfectly, on the contrary. It is I who was mistaken; I give you my apology,” I softly answered.

“And I wish I could throw that damn shirt right in your face!”

That thought gave me an idea, however. My feet seemed to unglue from the stairs and I bravely walked closer to him, looking at the vast emptiness next to the staircase out of corner of my eye. It started to become incredibly appealing. I thanked Cerridwen that the shirt was white; the nervousness I felt was not apparent, fortunately.

“If you want it back, I can give it to you right now,” I suggested, with a firmness in my voice that surprised me.

I distinctly saw something flicker in his dark eyes, in a heartbeat. His mental barriers were holding strong and I did not feel any emotion pierce through the stonewall I knew so well. What that flicker was made of, I could not tell, but I savoured the small victory of marking a point, at least.

“That will not be necessary,” he courteously replied, in a perfectly composed attitude.

“Very well, then,” I answered. “I will have it sent to you as soon as possible.”

“As you wish. Please make sure that the symptoms do not come back before you do; the nurse will sleep much better that way.”

“I will make sure I rip it into pieces before I do! That should be incredibly therapeutic!”

“Albus told me that you and him have considered a few options for the report you have to make, in a few nights…” I whispered, eager to put an end to the infernal turn the conversation was taking.

“This is not the place to talk about this, Antanasia,” he coldly replied.

“I know. Maybe we could discuss this elsewhere? I remember we used to find clever ideas in situations like that, not so long ago,” I suggested, with a forced but engaging smile.

“Show me the wizard I talked to before is still in there somewhere!”

“I do not think so. I have come back to my usual sleeping schedule and I teach at 9:00 tomorrow morning. I need some rest. We will discuss that some other time, I guess.”

“Oh… of course, of course! I understand,” I exclaimed, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

I was so taken aback by the detachment and coldness in his voice that I kept staring at him, waiting for him to say or do something that would wipe off the growing sinking sensation I felt, at the moment. But he only stared back at me for a few seconds and, seeing that I had nothing else to add, he uttered:

“If you will excuse me, I will go back to my quarters. Good night.”

“Good night.”

I did jump down the staircase, right after the limping blackness that was his silhouette vanished in the darkness of a distant corridor. I landed right on the main floor and rushed outside, hoping to find some peace of mind in the Forbidden Forest, which I knew was vibrant with nature’s forces.

~*~

“And in addition, I am late! What a wonderful way to resume my work in the Order! They will all think I am completely irresponsible! I cannot believe he did that to me!” I ruminated, over and over, as I hurried above the school grounds, a small luggage clutched between my claws.

I had spent an uncomfortable day, lying partially awake on my bed, trying to figure out what could explain Severus’ so distant attitude… and my reaction to it. I had packed a small luggage with some of Poppy and Minerva’s clothes, which had both insisted to lend them to me as long as needed. Severus’ shirt was neatly folded next to my luggage, on the bed. I had cleaned it myself, after abandoning any hope of falling into a restful sleep. I planned to give it to him myself when he would come to the Hospital wing to pick me up.

But Severus never came to pick me up. When my watch indicated a quarter past seven, I thought his students were keeping him busy. I forgave him, thinking that they were probably happy to see their teacher again after his absence and had plenty of things to tell him. At a quarter to eight, however, I really started to worry; the meeting was supposed to begin at 8:00pm sharp and there was still no sign of the Potions master. Minerva found me pacing my bedroom nervously when she rushed through my open door, twenty minutes later.

“There has been a misunderstanding, Antanasia,” she explained, slightly out of breath. “Severus thought you would come with the Headmaster and me... at least that is what he told us,” she severely added, sounding very unconvinced.

“But I thought you had made it clear that—”

“I had. Believe me, I had,” she interrupted sharply. “Come, the meeting has begun, we should not linger here. I will show you the way.”

That is how I angrily shove Severus’ wrinkle-free shirt in my luggage and rushed out of the hospital wing, thanking Poppy one last time for her good care. I discreetly Transfigured into a normal-size eagle and flew over the grounds, in order to buy some time. I landed in Hogsmeade in a deserted street behind a restaurant and Transfigured back into myself. I untied my luggage, freeing a tabby cat that gracefully leaped out of it.

Minerva Transfigured, and then gave me Apparating instructions. We Apparated in a quiet street, right in front of a series of old and shabby Muggle houses. Minerva and I concentrated on the address the Secret Keeper had given us and I saw a house slowly rise in front of us, looking as shabby and unkempt as its neighbours. Minerva hurriedly walked to the black-painted front door and tapped it once with her wand. The door creaked open and we walked in.

We did not even take the time to remove our cloaks; Minerva led me along the wall, motioning me to remain completely silent. I felt my nervousness increase as we walked. For some reason, despite my anger, I was uneasy at the thought of seeing Severus again. In addition to my most impolite lateness, I felt like hiding away from any social contact for the rest of the night… or week. We reached a door at the other end and, without wasting a second, she opened it and let me inside.

A group of people was sitting around a large oval table that seemed to have known better days. Whoever was speaking before we came in, everybody stared silently at me as I slowly walked past the doorstep. My eyes frantically looked for either Dumbledore or an empty seat; something reassuring. Unfortunately for me, they found Severus’ cold dark eyes first. They were so deprived of any recognition glitter that I had the impression to stare at Hogwarts’ lake on a moonless night. My stomach knotted in a way that made me as irritated with myself as I was with him. I gave him a fuming glance in return.

“Antanasia, please come in and take a seat!” said Dumbledore’s warm voice from a vague place that was not in Severus’ vicinity. “We are glad to welcome you here.”

I finally turned my head away from Severus and my eyes met Dumbledore’s. They were twinkling in a particularly intense way, that very moment. I politely saluted the assembly, forcing myself to smile cheerfully, and then found the empty seat Dumbledore’s outstretched hand was pointing. It was right on Severus’ left. Making my way behind a few people’s seats (and disturbing everybody while doing so), I reached my seat, sat down as calmly as I could and flung my cloak over the back of the chair.

They were all still looking at me. Except my right neighbour, of course, who looked straight in front of him, as if I did not exist.

“I am sorry to make such a late arrival, it was not my intention to disrupt the meeting,” I apologized, turning to Dumbledore.

“Do not worry about that; Severus was beginning to tell us about his three months in Transylvania. Please continue, Severus.”

“Thank you, Albus,” he said, resuming a story I knew too well.

“Damn you, Severus! You self-centred prick! Couldn’t you just tell me, right in my face, that you did not want to see me tonight? Was it that difficult? Does your voice always have to make me vibrate so much?” I thought, as the enticing voice resounded next to me and my nose picked the equally enticing sandalwood smell.

“Yes, Severus?” said Dumbledore, the twinkles glimmering in his eyes tainting his voice as well. “You were talking about Lady Marilena’s reaction during your second meeting.”

“Yes, sorry Albus. I was just thinking about the details of her answer, to make sure I give you accurate information. Lady Marilena’s first reaction, as I said, was one of prudence…”

As Severus continued with his report, I slowly calmed down and retrieved the will to detach my eyes from the patterns the missing varnish had left on the table and started to observe the people around me. To my disappointment, all the faces around the table were unknown to me, except for the three Hogwarts teachers. Alice did not seem to be anywhere in the room. As my glance moved from a pink-haired witch to a couple with equally striking red hair, something caught my attention. Someone was looking at me.

I turned my head to the right and my eyes met his face. It was rather oval-shaped and his vast forehead was framed with somewhat wavy locks of hazelnut hair that fell to the middle of his ears and was freckled with various shades of grey. He looked pale and tired, which accentuated a natural wrinkle, right between his rather thick eyebrows. He seemed old and young altogether; it was difficult for me to estimate his age. His eyes were of a greyish blue that reflected a certain softness; dark shadows were underlining them. Under his pear-shaped nose, I saw a discreet straight moustache and a similarly discreet mouth with voluptuous lips, nevertheless. His chin had voluntary curves; it made me think he was a man with softness and determination, which was a good guess. What attracted my eyes the most, however, were the long scars that ran across his face; that man was suffering from lycanthropy, I knew it at once.

He greeted me with a small nod and his lips stretched into a discreet smile. I liked the way his eyes smiled, too. I smiled back, bowing my head slightly. Seconds later, Severus’ voice brought me back to his report:

“And I will let Antanasia tell you about that part, because for obvious reasons, I did not attend the meetings with the Clan leader after McNair’s visit in Hungary.”

I continued the report, as accurately and professionally as I could, explaining the details of the political elements that had influenced Marilena’s decisions. I conveniently omitted to tell the group about how I had been designated to break the news to Severus about his execution and greatly summarized the execution in question, and the events that followed. It was trying enough to remember all this (and have Ivantie’s face stubbornly present in my mind while doing so), I wanted to avoid any nosy or unwanted question about the reasons that had motivated me to jump through that broken window. Dumbledore waited the end of my speech, and then took the floor.

“I think we should take a minute to highlight the bravery each of you displayed, throughout these three months. Each of you took great risks and I think it was greatly worth it; the Order kept a highly valuable member… and regained another. You have our gratitude.”

A murmur of approval ran around the table. Severus’ feelings were very strong; he was proud… and he felt powerful. I felt sad and tired… incredibly tired.

“The Dark Lord has contacted Severus and summoned him to a meeting tomorrow night,” Dumbledore continued. “As Antanasia told you, we have roughly a month left before the Zaharia and Russia Clan leaders contact the Dark Lord and negotiate an alliance with him. Severus will hopefully be able to keep us posted about the news that reach him or McNair. In the meantime, we have to agree on the report Severus should make, tomorrow night. Here is what we thought about…”

We were left with two obvious choices. Either Severus told Voldemort about me, or he did not. If he chose not to tell him right away, he more or less cancelled the possibility that I might infiltrate the Death Eaters. On the other hand, if he did tell him about me, I had a chance to work with Severus as a double agent and even control, for a certain time, the information that might come from Zaharia. Severus was opposed to that idea, and quite strongly.

“I do not see how her presence at the Death Eaters meetings would help our cause, especially after Lady Marilena contacts the Dark Lord,” he argued.

“That would create an additional source of information, Severus,” said a red-haired woman. “And we will lose it if you do not mention her tomorrow.”

“But a second double agent means an additional risk of having one of our agents unmasked,” retorted an old disfigured man in a corner of the room.

“That risk is high no matter what we decide, Alastor,” said Dumbledore calmly. “I think Antanasia should have a chance to tell us what she thinks about the idea.”

“I have given it some thoughts, since yesterday. I, like you Madam, do not see how I could suddenly appear at a Death Eaters meeting in a few weeks if Severus does not mention me tomorrow. So far, I see more advantages than disadvantages to tell the Dark Lord about me and eventually introduce me to him.”

“You must understand the consequences it would have, Antanasia. If you do convince him that you want to collaborate with him—”

“I think I have had plenty of occasions to figure out what would happen if I do, Severus,” I interrupted. “And I am ready to confront them if they come.”

“Does that include letting him soil your skin?” he taunted.

“Yes, it does,” I replied with my physical voice, exaggerating my determination just to annoy him.

“Let’s say you go tell You-know-who about her; what are the possibilities?” said the red-haired man.

“The first basic possibilities are the same, whether or not I tell him about Antanasia. I can tell him that Lady Marilena is either willing to give her help to him, to the Order, or is still undecided. I think the latter is the best option; that leaves all possibilities open.”

“And supports the reason for her current silence,” I commented.

“Antanasia could pass for someone who simply decided to go ahead and individually decide she wants to become a Death Eater. But I think this option is not very good,” he continued. “It would force her to become what she does not want to be.”

“I agree,” said Dumbledore, from his end of the table.

“If we choose to introduce Antanasia, then we must motivate the reason that made her come here. We thought she could have been my prisoner, but that was not very credible. She could be introduced as an emissary sent by Zaharia, but I do not think this is very credible either.”

“I disagree, Severus. I think that option is a good one. We will just have to find a way to make it credible,” I replied.

“What if she came here for… personal reasons?” the red-haired woman suggested.

“We did think about that one, too—” Dumbledore began.

“And quickly concluded that it was not an option,” Severus completed, in a dangerously sharp tone.

We discussed about various plans for about half an hour. Severus, after much deliberation, reluctantly agreed to let Voldemort know about my presence in England. It was decided that he would tell him mostly the truth about his stay at Zaharia. That he had first approached Lady Marilena with a pro-Order attitude, but had been unmasked as a Death Eater, supposedly on purpose. He would then tell the Dark Lord that he had slowly recruited most of Zaharia’s inhabitants and turned them to his cause with my help, until the news about McNair’s visit in Hungary became known and facilitated his mission. He would explain his long stay with his imprisonment and Marilena’s slowness at taking a definitive decision. Seeing that she was not about to take it, he would have left because he was concerned to keep his position at Hogwarts, which also allowed him to keep an eye on Dumbledore. I would have accompanied him as a collaborator and official contact person with the Clan, which gave us some control about the information we could give Voldemort about it.

“That way, you might even be able to make Marilena’s accusations sound like a misunderstanding or a strategy, should she tell the Dark Lord about how Severus militated for the Order,” said the wizard who had smiled at me.

“If she tells him about it. After all, given the way the Dark Lord offended her, it is not in her best interest to tell him about how she failed to impose her power and looked like a fool in front of her vassals. We have no control over that part; we can only hope for the best,” I commented.

The meeting was concluded shortly after. We agreed that it was best for me not to accompany Severus at his meeting (to his relief), and we would wait to see how it went before making other plans. As the Order members slowly left the room, chatting about the meeting, I saw Severus’ glance catch one of the sleeves of his shirt that fell out of my luggage opening, which I had put next to my chair. I bent down, aiming for it and debating whether I should thank him or not for lending it to me, but Minerva tapped softly on my shoulder, making me turn to her. She wanted to say goodbye before she left and we chatted for a few minutes.

When I turned back, Severus was gone. The spotless sleeve still oozed out from the bag, with a white brightness that almost looked provoking. I grabbed my bag and hurriedly walked to the corridor, but I only caught a glimpse of his billowing black robes in the opening of the front door before he vanished into the night. I stood there, resisting the urge to make a fool of myself and run after him just to give him his shirt back and attempt to have the last word. Minerva walked past me, whispering a discreet goodbye, and so did Dumbledore, who followed right behind her. I accompanied them to the door, trying to savour the last seconds of their familiar presence before I would be confronted to my solitude. I was not confronted to it for long, though. The door had barely closed behind them with a sinister thud when a hoarse voice said happily, above my left shoulder:

“From what I have heard, we are about to become roommates, if I am not mistaken?”

~*~

AUTHOR’S NOTE
I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I would really appreciate some reviews. It does not take much of your time and it tells me if you like where the story is going or not! It’s in your best interest, in a way! Writing 25-30 pages every week represents a lot of work; your comments are a valuable reward! :o)