To Know Who I Am

Acknowledgements: Huge thanks to my beta reader, ubiquirk, my Brit-picker, Saracen77, my alpha readers, Bluedolfyn and Willow_Kat, and all those lovely people who have left reviews.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and I'm not making any money from this. If you think otherwise, there's this nice room in St. Mungo's for you.

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Chapter 16

“Please don’t go.”

“I have to. I’ve already explained …”

“Please don’t abandon my baby!”

This was going nowhere. Celia squinted at the woman, certain she ought to know something about her by now.

“I’m going to take her with me. I told you that. That’s the whole point!”

“You don’t understand.”

The woman’s forehead was creased in obvious pain and worry. Celia was just frustrated. Why was that the one thing about this lady that she could make out? She used to be able to see her more clearly – she was sure of it.

“Then explain it to me. Why can’t you tell me who your ‘baby’ is or who you are or something? I’ve got nothing to work with here!”

Her eyes shot open as they always did whenever she tried to find out who the woman was.

Dream over. Thanks for playing. Score: Dream Lady – something like a thousand, Celia – zero. I need your help, but I won’t tell you who I am or who my kid is, and if you try to look at me too closely, I’ll get all wavy and hard to see. Because that makes sense when what I want is your help.

Knowing it wouldn’t really work, Celia tried to carefully disentangle herself and slip out of bed. Severus woke immediately, of course, and completely disregarded her suggestion that he try to catch a few more winks. At least he let her have the bathroom first.

A quick dip in the tub – damn, she missed her shower sometimes – and she hurried back into the bedroom.

Her teaching robes were hanging on the knob of his wardrobe, no doubt brought by a house-elf. She decided she’d rather not think about when that had been done or if and how they knew when it was safe to pop in. A lump in one of the pockets turned out to be her trunk, miniaturized. Once she was dressed and Severus was in the bathroom, she enlarged the trunk to check its contents.

Her research notes and journals were there, of course, and the clothes from her closet. Fortunately there weren’t many, as she relied on Transfiguring them for what little variety she needed. Her Foe-Glass was carefully layered between the clothes, and she hoped it would be as well-protected when she put it back as when the elves had packed it. There were only two books, and that was actually one more than she had expected. She’d have to ask about that. They hadn’t packed any samples of her hybridized plants, but she wouldn’t have expected them to know how. She hoped she’d have time to collect them herself, but if not, she already planned to return as soon as she could.

Or else I can start over from scratch. Wouldn’t that be fun?

She closed and re-miniaturized the trunk and stowed it back in her pocket. When Severus came into the sitting room, she was examining the contents of the basket of spell ingredients. She smiled sadly at him and was unsurprised that he answered this with a frown.

“The elves brought everything,” she said, patting her pocket. “There are a couple of things I ought to take care of in the greenhouses, but am I not supposed to go back there?”

“Pomona will undoubtedly arrive by Monday,” he replied. “I am certain that she will be able to take care of any issues with the plants, including your hybrids.”

So. Apparently I’m not supposed to take even that much time. Aloud, she asked, “Maybe someone could let the little snake out before she comes? I don’t know how she feels about snakes, and it should be warm enough by now for it to be outside. I hope.”

He nodded, clearly not thrilled at the idea.

“How are we doing this then?”

“We will exit by way of my office. What you are carrying should be sufficient explanation of your presence,” he said, nodding at the basket of ingredients. “We will proceed to the Great Hall, where you will prepare for your spell. When you are ready, the Headmistress will make an announcement that we have information for one of the girls, who has to be identified by way of a spell, and that the boys should leave. The Head Boy and male prefects will be charged with keeping the rest in order in the Entrance Hall until we are done. When the girl has been identified, you and she and Minerva will go to the Headmistress’ office along with her Head of House, whoever that may be, and then decisions will be made.”

“Did the options change at all after I left the meeting?”

“A bit,” he admitted. The light in his eyes suggested he had been the one to orchestrate whatever changes had been made. “In most cases, you will be charged with removing her to a safer location, and Minerva and I will have the task of informing her parents. In some few cases, you will be able to go to the parents first and may be able to keep guard over her and undertake her training at her home. There are three of the older girls who are considered sufficiently skilled in Defense Against the Dark Arts that they will be allowed to decide whether they wish to stay at Hogwarts.”

“Best I don’t know which ones they are, or I might influence the spell.”

“Quite.”

She shook her head slowly. “I hope this is the right decision. I mean, I get the whole drive to make sure she’s safe. I’m on board with that. Really. But we’re operating on such fragmented information. What if all of the ideas we’ve had so far are wrong?”

“So, while we wait for further information, we should simply continue as we have been? I suppose it would be helpful if they actually abducted her. Then we would, indeed, be certain.” He gave her a pointed look. “On this much, Minerva and I agree.”

Something still felt wrong.

“I had the dream again,” Celia said. “Only this time she was telling me not to leave her baby. I tried to explain that I’d be taking the child with me, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Severus looked at her thoughtfully and asked, “And you still cannot describe her?”

Celia closed her eyes. “Anytime I try to get a good look, she goes all fuzzy. It’s like she’s under a Fidelius Charm. Well, kind of. Not exactly. I can and have described her to Giles, shown her to Willow even. But when I’ve tried to talk about her to anyone here or to show you … nothing.”

“Perhaps you should discuss it with Sybill.”

She glared at him. The woman might have coughed up an occasional prophecy through no fault of her own, but she didn’t seem to have the slightest grasp of the realities of more normal forms of Divination. Oh, sure, she could recognize her Tarot cards and explain how one ought to use a crystal ball or interpret dreams, but no conversation Celia had had with the woman suggested she really understood any of it. Not really.

“It’s not as though there’s going to be time for that. I’m not crazy about doing this anyway, and the dream just adds fuel to the fire. Every instinct I have is screaming to stay here, that we don’t know enough to take any kind of action, even if removing her as a possible target does make strategic sense.”

His eyes narrowed, and she wondered what he was thinking.

Probably that I’m not Ms. Objectivity about this. Which is a valid point. But this isn’t about that. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.

She considered asking him about the book, then decided it would probably offend his sense of Slytherin subtlety, not to mention the emotional buffer zone he was obviously trying to create. Clearly the elves had been informed that, while the only bound book in the cottage that was truly hers was Potions Development Theory, they should also pack the tatty, much written-in Advanced Potion-Making.

“We should be going,” he said at last. “Soon, students will be cluttering the hallways on their way to breakfast, and surely you will need time to prepare.”

She shrugged. “Actually, there’s not much preparation needed. It’s pretty much just throwing stuff into the fireplace. It’ll take longer to get the girls organized than anything else.”

He nodded curtly, went to the door that led to his office, and held it open for her. On her way through the door, she stopped and looked up at him.

I’m coming back. Stop looking at me like you’ll never see me again because I’m coming back!

She shook her head and preceded him out of his quarters.

~ ~ ~

She’d been right. There was essentially no preparation on her part for the spell other than arranging the students in a semicircle that began at one side of the Great Hall’s fireplace and ended at the other.

At least they are sufficiently curious to be watching rather than chattering incessantly. He glared at a couple of exceptions to that.

He supposed they must think it odd that their young Herbology professor was the one performing the spell, but then, considering some of the odd rumors that had flown after the heavily edited information about her protective spell had been “leaked,” perhaps not.

The teachers formed something of an arc outside the semicircle of girls. He noticed that Potter had – somewhat predictably – taken up a position that put him as far as possible from Celia. His continued suspicion of her was annoying.

I do wonder how much of that is due to that training session and how much is simply because she is involved with me. He has more than once implied as much, though it is unclear whether he believes her corruption to be the cause or effect of our … association.

Well. The Boy-Who-Lived would not have to worry about having her about much longer, now, would he? Severus scowled at him.

“Once I finish the spell,” Celia was explaining, “a large orange light will appear, and it’ll go to the student we’re looking for and light up her aura. It’s pretty simple really. Unfortunately, it also smells really bad, or at least it will until we clear it out once we’re done.” He could see she almost had to bite back the words “Are there any questions?” She could not have answered them, in any case.

Kneeling before the hearth, she appeared small and vulnerable. And she was. She was also a force with which to be reckoned, and he supposed it was to her advantage that this was not obvious. She pulled the snakeskin from the basket, and he was reminded that he had agreed to see to her stray. He suppressed a shudder and wondered if Dobby would be able to find a suitable place to let the creature free.

“To light the aura of the new,” she said, “skin of snake and chrysalis, too.” She tossed both items into the flames.

“To indicate the fresh reborn, tumbleweed and rosebush thorn.” So far none of the items gave off much smell at all. The vague scent of rose was actually somewhat pleasant.

“An egg that means the life to come: take this, oh spirits, and my spell is done.” It was surprising, however, just how exquisitely bad a burnt egg could smell.

She stepped back quickly from the fire and through the semicircle of girls who were now pinching their noses shut and, in a few cases, casting Bubblehead Charms on themselves. As she had described, a brilliant orange light took shape in the centre of the semicircle and moved slightly first in one direction, then another, as though it could not make up its mind. Though Celia was several yards away from where he stood watching, the anxious tension pouring off of her was palpable. He saw her mouth the words, “Come on.”

He glanced at Miss Hollingberry. She had yet to report any nightmares or demonstrate unusual strength or speed, but she did seem to him the most likely candidate, if only because she had sought out additional Defense instruction. Besides, she was a Gryffindor. Despite Celia’s insistence that the girl could reside in any House, this was one area in which he agreed with her Watcher.

Suddenly the light moved, shooting directly at Miss Lowsley. Surprising that it should be a seventh-year, as Celia had said Slayers usually became active at puberty. He was startled when it shot over Miss Lowsley and slammed straight into Celia, knocking her back several steps and surrounding her with its bright glow.

It didn’t work. What does it mean that it failed to work? Was her mission here a mistake from the outset?

“Well that’s not particularly helpful,” she seethed, looking first to him and then to the Headmistress. With a flick of her wand she Vanished the glow and the odor along with it. “Now what?” she asked.

“Did the spell just backfire?” Potter asked.

“I don’t think so,” Filius said. “Everything appeared to be in order. It simply could not find the girl it was intended to locate, and so it returned to the one who cast it.”

“I believe, Professor Reese, that you, Professor Potter, and Professor Snape should join me in my office, and we can discuss this over breakfast in private,” the Headmistress said firmly. “Students, you may return to your tables; the young men will join you shortly.”

A buzz of conversation began and grew as the girls milled about and found their seats while Severus followed Minerva and Celia out of the Great Hall.

Of all the contingencies we discussed, both with and without her, this is the one for which we have the least preparation. Will Minerva send her away regardless? Or will Potter and I be the ones asked to leave?

He glanced at Celia briefly, then focused his eyes straight ahead. This was going to be an even more difficult meeting than last night’s had been.

~ ~ ~

“And you are certain you did the spell correctly?” Minerva asked for what had to be the tenth time.

“Yes, I’m positive,” Celia replied through clenched teeth. “Filius said so, too, if you remember, and if anyone should be able to recognized a botched Charm, which, okay, that wasn’t exactly a Charm in the traditional sense, but still, I’m sure he could tell if it had gone wrong.”

This time she was pacing, Headmistress’ office or no. There was too much to process, and she needed to keep the blood flowing to her brain if she was going to cope with it. She was also nibbling at her thumbnail, a habit she had broken by the age of twelve. Her breakfast sat ignored on the table they were supposed to be sitting at.

“Has the spell ever failed before?” Severus asked. She stood still a moment to look at him sharply, trying to gauge how he was faring. No better than she was, probably. He could still be sent away, but maybe … no, her dream had been right. She could not leave the child she was here to protect, a child who was apparently not a Potential Slayer after all. She resumed pacing.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “It gave a false positive the first time Willow used it because another girl was standing between it and the actual Potential. That’s why I had the girls standing the way I did and why I left the circle immediately.”

“Couldn’t it have been more attracted to a full Slayer than the Potential it was supposed to find?” Harry asked.

“That’s just it. It shouldn’t have. It’s supposed to focus on the one who’s about to be transformed, to begin a new life. Nearly seven years doesn’t remotely qualify as new.”

“Any new life? Or specifically a Slayer on the cusp of activation?” Severus asked sharply.

She took in the strained expression on his face and realized what he was getting at. She shook her head firmly. “No, not just any new life.” After all this time, does he seriously think I’m that incompetent with a cauldron?

Harry looked like he’d picked up on the subtext and was kind of grossed out.

She shot him a look, thinking, Oh, grow up! I guess it’s an improvement over looking at me like I’m the next Big Bad, but still!

Severus noticed and smirked evilly.

Boys. Fifteen, twenty-five, forty-five, they’re all still just boys!

“So then, it appears your mission here was never what you thought,” Minerva said.

“Guess not,” she admitted, dragging her focus back to the task at hand. “I mean, it seemed like the only reasonable interpretation, but lately reasonable interpretations have a habit of being badly wrong.”

“Indeed,” the Headmistress replied. “The question, then, is what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Celia said. “I mean, we have some strongly suggestive fragments of information, but nothing even close to solid.”

“Still, my first priority must be the protection of the students.”

Severus, Celia, and Harry all nodded agreement to that statement of the blindingly obvious.

“So, as apparently we will not be able to remove the student who is in the most danger, assuming that ‘the girl’ is, indeed, even a student here, do we then remove the two targets of which we are nearly certain?”

“If you’re asking for opinions, Minerva” Celia replied, “I’d have to say I think it’d be a big mistake to do that. On the strategic side, doing that would remove two exceptionally powerful wizards from Hogwarts when we have reason to believe there could still be a student, just not a Potential Slayer, who’s a target. On the academic side, it’d be a lot harder to replace two professors and Heads of House than one professor with no administrative duties.”

“You are hardly unbiased in this,” Minerva said, looking at her guardedly.

“I’m not claiming to be,” Celia agreed. “But without better information, I think sending them into hiding or even openly drawing fire away from Hogwarts would be a mistake. A bad one.”

She tasted copper and realized she had bitten her thumb a little too hard. Casting a quick Healing Charm, she continued to pace.

“Must you do that?” the Headmistress asked.

“Sorry.” She forced herself to sit down. Needing to keep doing something, she picked up her coffee and sipped it, then nibbled on a piece of toast.

“Severus, your opinion?”

“While I loathe the idea that my presence might endanger the students, Minerva, you already know I agree that it would be precipitous to take such drastic action without complete information. History has already shown what can come of taking action based upon a fragment of a prophecy.” He jerked his head to indicate Harry. “While Mr. Spike believes he was unobserved before he was caught and also believes that he successfully Occluded his mind, the possibility exists that these Death Eaters may be aware we have this information or may even have planted it.”

The Headmistress appeared to give this rather more weight than Celia’s opinion. As it matched hers for the most part, she really didn’t care. Much.

“And you, Harry?”

“There’re times you should scatter your targets,” said the Auror and Defense professor, “and times it’s better to keep them together. We still don’t know which time this is.”

“So then, we do nothing?” Minerva asked, incredulous.

“If we do nothing,” Severus said, “and the information was indeed intended to drive Potter and myself from Hogwarts, then we may force them to reveal what they are planning when they try again. On the other hand, if the information is legitimate and they do not know we have it, acting upon it would reveal our knowledge and potentially cost us an advantage.”

Celia’s mind churned. There had to be some angle they were missing … besides the rest of the prophecy, definitive knowledge whether Spike’s information was planted or legitimate, the identity of “the girl,” and what her connection or contribution was supposed to be. Somehow, the girl was key. The prophecy even said so. Her tired brain ran on. The key is the link, the link must be severed …Well, duh. I was already trying to figure out how to do that anyway.

“Ultimately, we need more information,” Severus said. “While they may have already abandoned the site, I believe it would be good to send someone to investigate before any more time passes.”

It can be done, at least on a vampire. I mean, we saw Spike’s disappear. Just because none of the books so far say how …

“No doubt the Aurors have already been and gone,” Minerva replied. “Whether we will learn what they have found is another matter.”

This is why getting the government involved is never a good idea. Even magical government. But if the link can be severed …

*Will?*

*Yeah?*

*I’ll catch you up in a few, but right now I’ve got a question. Angel has a tattoo, right?*

*I think so.*

*Did he get it before or after he was turned?*

*I dunno. Why?*

*Can you find out? Like now?*

*‘Kay.*

“I should be able to find out,” Harry said. “Though I’d be much happier if they just gave you a complete report.”

*After.*

*Thanks, Will. Fill you in soon.*

“Do you have anything to add, Celia?” Minerva asked.

“Actually, yes,” she said. “The thing is, what we have here, so far as we know, is a really bizarre hostage situation. Just, nobody’s been taken yet.”

Three pairs of eyes looked at her oddly.

“So, the first impulse we all had was to get the most vulnerable potential hostage, pun intended, away. And that’s one way to deal with a hostage situation: get the hostages away. Doesn’t always work, but it’s a valid approach. Without the ability to remove her from the situation, the next option was to remove the other two, who are way less vulnerable, and we’ve already gone through most of the reasons that would be a bad idea, at least for now.”

“That’s all well and good,” Harry said, looking at her suspiciously again, “but I don’t see how we can turn it around and make it their problem, which is what it sounds like you’re going to suggest.”

“Uh, no, that wasn’t what I was going to suggest,” she replied. “Though if we find a way, that would probably be easier. No, I was going to say that a better idea, especially when the bad guys haven’t gotten their hands on the hostages yet, is to remove their value. Plus, of course, make sure the bad guys know you’ve removed it.”

Severus grasped it first.

“Do you think I have not tried?” he asked, his voice dark with anger. “You have read everything I have on the subject. If it were possible to erase this link to that madman, do you not think I would already have done so?”

“Anything made by man can be unmade by man,” she countered. “Just because we don’t know how doesn’t mean it can’t be done. In fact, we know it can be done. We saw it happen just yesterday.”

“We do not know why …”

“No, we don’t know why. Maybe they don’t know how to cast it permanently, though the one on Locksley lasted past his death, right? Or maybe it just doesn’t ‘take’ on vamps. But I just checked, and there’s at least one vampire running around with a regular Muggle tattoo that he got after he’d been turned, and it’s still there. So it’s at least possible for something to be made permanent on them, and Spike’s is gone. Maybe if we figure out why, we can figure out how to do the same thing for your Mark, and the same principle might work for Harry’s scar, too. And when we find the girl … or boy, whatever … and work out what their link is, maybe we can break that, too.”

Harry, in particular, was staring at her with impossibly wide eyes.

“You’re as mad as Hermione,” he said in an awestruck voice.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” Not that she knew much about Hermione Granger, but going by what little she had heard, the woman was brilliant. “The point is there are angles we’re not seeing, and that’s only one of them.” And the alternative, the only other way to render them useless, is unthinkable. “Meanwhile,” she continued, “whatever the Aurors find will almost certainly be nearly as incomplete as the information we already have, though with any luck it’ll confirm or rule out a few things. So we need another information source.”

“I thought you did not care for my earlier suggestion that we turn to tea leaves and crystal balls,” Severus sneered.

Celia gave him a quelling look as Minerva answered, “That would hardly be an improvement upon what we already have, Severus. While some sort of Divination might be called for, I would prefer something far more reliable.” She looked at the clock. “For now, you should all prepare to start your classes for the day. If we are to project an air of normalcy after the way this morning has started, then classes as usual are the first order of business. I will contact Kingsley and see what the Aurors have learned thus far.”

The three professors rose and left for each of their classes. Just before they reached the gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs, Celia grasped Severus’ hand and squeezed it gently, smiling when he turned to her. He nodded once sharply and strode off toward the dungeons.

As she left the castle and prepared to set up her first class in Greenhouse Four, she took advantage of the speed with which telepathy allowed her to update Willow.

~ ~ ~

It was somewhat astounding. Students were rightly afraid to speak in his classroom, and yet still he managed to catch bits of the rumors that this morning’s events had spawned. This information was, obviously, the next thing to useless. It had once been his place to gather information that was actually of value.

Ironic, that.

Something that Minerva had said earlier haunted him throughout the morning, that comment about something more reliable than Divination. As students placed parchment scrolls on his desk to be marked before fetching ingredients for today’s assignment, he ran through their options for obtaining information yet again. The Aurors would most likely find little. He could suggest one or two places they might look for these new Death Eaters if they were going to stick with the obvious.

However, spying on them is likely to be harder now that they’ve caught someone at it once.

“Mr. Hughes,” he barked at a hapless Gryffindor, “what, precisely, do you think you are going to accomplish by grinding your dung beetle wings to a powder in that manner?”

“But, you said …”

“I said nothing that could possibly resemble such a thing!” He looked over at the next student who was similarly pulverizing his beetle wings. As was the student next to him and the one behind her. “Have you all taken leave of your senses? Clear away your work areas immediately and commence writing an essay on the various ways to prepare dung beetle wings and why one would choose each one.”

Glancing at the board, he winced. He had, in his distraction, somehow managed to Charm two sets of instructions onto the board, quite scrambled, and they did, indeed, imply that one should powder the beetle wings.

I suppose fourth year is not too early to introduce them to the misdirections they will find in some Potions texts as well as the need to apply their prior knowledge despite what is written. Thank Merlin I caught them before they actually began combining ingredients.

They scurried about for a few minutes and then settled in to write, giving him further opportunity to think about the notion that had been teasing at the edge of his mind.

“He’s just not wrong,” Celia had said about the Seer who told her that her birth parents were deceased. He wondered why she had not suggested approaching this Seer before now.

~ ~ ~

“That’s … that’s a very good idea,” she said. Why didn’t I think of that? Besides the fact I have no idea where he is right now, of course. “Give me a sec to find out where he even is.”

Severus nodded and returned to his lunch. She noticed that he paused every so often to glare at the students who kept stealing covert glances at her and whispering. Well, what did he expect after that spectacle this morning? Not to be sitting next to each other at lunch, for starters. She took a steadying breath and let it out slowly. Also, I think I’d have kept my mouth shut a little longer if I hadn’t been so sure I’d be gone by now.

She stirred her soup absently and reached out with her mind.

*Will?*

*Yeah? Not more catching up, I hope. I'm still kinda headachy from the last round.*

*No. Anything new on your end?*

*Spike’s a little more responsive. We’ve graduated to the occasional yes or no.*

*That’s an improvement, anyway.*

*How’s things there?*

*Students are freaked and making stuff up randomly to explain the big stinky spell that bombed.*

*Oh, joy.*

*Listen, Will, what do you think about asking Lorne’s help?*

*I think … why didn’t we think of this sooner?*

*We still didn’t. Severus did.*

*Huh.*

*Yeah. Can we find out where he is these days? I mean, I know he was creating more Caritas sites, but that was a couple of years ago.*

*He’s still not so much with the talking to Angel, but I’ll see what I can find out.*

*Thanks.*

“Willow’s checking to see where he’s operating these days,” she said to Severus. She looked at the empty chair on her other side. I really do need to talk to Hagrid, too. I worry about him.

*Celia?*

*Yeah, Will?*

*He actually opened one in England. Giles is trying to reach him to see if he’s going to be there soon or if we need to catch him at another site.*

*Where in England? London, must be, right?*

*I don’t know. If that’s where we end up going, obviously I’ll find out.*

*‘Kay. Thanks.*

*Thank Severus for thinking of it.*

“Willow says thanks for thinking of it. We’re still not sure where he is just now, but we may be able to set up a meeting at some site in England.”

“That is not terribly specific.”

“No. If we’re going there, obviously we’ll get the details. But it beats trans-Atlantic Apparition, which I’d love to avoid.”

“Hmm.”

*Got him!*

*That was fast.*

*I decided to cut out the middleman.*

*Oh.* Willow didn’t do that often. Most people kind of freaked out over suddenly hearing her voice in their heads if they weren’t expecting it. Or even if they were.

*He’s in Beijing, but he said he’ll meet us at this mill … * Celia received an image of an old, clearly abandoned mill and a sense of the surrounding area, including a safe place to Apparate in. * … at eight o’clock tonight.*

*I’m sorry, this is Lorne, right? Mister “Okay, go ahead and sing for me, but I’m only reading you because I read everybody”?*

*Yeah.*

*And he’s dropping everything and coming halfway around the world for this?*

*Apparently he was expecting it.*

Now, that just couldn’t be good.

*Does that make you as nervous as it makes me?* Celia asked.

*Maybe more.*

*Thanks again. See you around seven forty-five, unless something changes.*

*See you then.*

“Okay, it’s set for tonight.”

“The location?”

“Have a look.” She turned to face him and focused on her last exchange with Willow. He swept through the words and images like a feather in her mind, then turned back to his meal.

“Interesting location,” he said in an odd, neutral tone.

“He’s always been big on the large, abandoned buildings. I’d have bet on a warehouse in London, but I’d’ve been wrong.” She took a sip of tea, then said, “Looks like he was expecting us to contact him.”

“It is not all that far from the place we believe was recently abandoned. No more than twenty miles.”

She correctly interpreted this to mean the place Spike had found the Death Eaters. Too bad that Muffling Spell of his doesn’t do anything about lip readers. I’d rather be talking more directly about this.

“The place itself should be safe,” she said. “He’s always used strong Anti-Aggression Charms. We’ll need some sort of ‘don’t notice us’ Charm to make sure no one sees us and carries tales, though.”

“And who, exactly, are ‘any of us’?”

“Probably all six of us.”

He gave her a look.

“What? At the very least, you and Harry have to be there. And if my teacher or I are … candidates … then we need to be there as well. Plus, Spike’s the one who heard … stuff.”

“Madam Kennedy, I imagine, would not agree to remain behind.”

“Definitely not.” She toyed with what was left of her soup. At least he doesn’t call her that to her face anymore. “You’re going to need more aconite and vinca today, right? Walk me to the greenhouse now, and I’ll explain some of the details about how he does his readings.” And that’ll be way easier walking outside than sitting up here on a frickin’ stage practically! Stage. Oh, he’s really not going to like this.

Severus nodded shortly, rose, and then followed her out of the Great Hall.

~ ~ ~

Potter was right. The woman was mad, far more mad than … If she thought for one moment that he was going to sing in a bar full of demons. Actually, she was utterly insane if she thought he was going to sing in public at all.

“That’s how he reads your aura, Severus,” she had said. “Something happens when a person sings that opens it to his vision. Well, not always a person.”

That would be when she had explained that he was a demon, as were most of his customers. Apparently this anagogic demon was every bit as neutral as Ollivander: he would not reveal what he read for them to anyone else but would not hesitate to read for anyone else either.

He stormed back down to the Potions dungeons, potted plants firmly in hand. The very idea of anyone reading his aura, seeing into his soul, was utterly anathema to Severus Snape, quite apart from the matter of public singing.

He might, after what she had said, consider singing just for her. After consuming a large amount of Firewhisky. Perhaps.

“I doubt you’ll enjoy it, though I imagine I will.” She had lowered her voice then. “Just listening to you speak is like being bathed in silk, Severus. I can only imagine how amazing it must be to hear you sing.”

It was obvious that she was trying to make light of the situation or at least make the best of it. He supposed he should be relieved that she hadn’t attempted to address the reprieve they had been granted – and he was certain it could only be a temporary reprieve – more directly. Moving forward, rather than looking back, was indeed the thing when circumstances became so fluid. To do so in such a lighthearted manner, however, was completely outside his experience.

Considering what she … professed last night, I imagine I should be grateful that she is not taking a great many things amiss.

He had no intention of participating in this ridiculous exercise. If not for the fact that he was the only one who had any familiarity with the area and the fact that he still preferred to be on hand when she might be at any sort of risk, he wouldn’t be going at all. Among the multitudinous problems with this plan, just this morning he had been fully prepared never to see her again. Or if not fully prepared, at least resigned. Now he was supposed to accompany her to a bar full of demons and sing in front of them? Preposterous.

Approximately ten minutes remained for him to add these ingredients to the Wolfsbane Potion, which could then simmer until his two double-period classes finished. On top of everything else, he would then need to travel to London and back to deliver it, after which he would need to mark papers (no time for their usual Friday afternoon tea, which they had kept up despite or perhaps because of their current de facto cohabitation), go to dinner, and then revisit a part of his life he had hoped never to see again en route to this demon bar.

She had thanked him for reminding her of this Seer. It had better be worth it.