Quia Caesaris Sum

I was slumped in my favourite armchair cradling a glass of brandy when Albus' smiling face emerged from the flames in front of me.

"Severus, dear boy," he exclaimed exuberantly. "I wonder if you could join me in my study for a few moments. I need your help with a rather pressing problem."

"Can't it wait until morning Headmaster?" I asked hopefully. "I really am feeling rather wrung out right now." 'Wrung out' was something of an understatement. I felt shattered and not just physically. I was barely holding myself together after the evening's events and I didn't know whether I could explain that to Albus without losing the fragile grip I had on my self-control. I would have retired for the night already if I had thought that I could sleep, but I knew that the only thing that would allow me rest was one of my potions and, as enticing as sleep was at that moment, I feared being unable to awaken from my nightmares more than I feared the dreams themselves. How did I know I would dream? Because just closing my eyes caused me to relive the experience. Images from earlier that night flashed behind my eyelids like a series of photographs. Lucius writhing on the ground in agony, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep from screaming; Voldemort standing over him like some kind of malevolent spirit, an horrific grin on his features as he revelled in the scent of Lucius' fear; myself and my fellow Death Eaters standing there in silence as our Lord doled out the punishment, the sounds of bones cracking and muscles tearing echoed through my mind. I could feel my muscles beginning to tense as they did at the time, every muscle straining to get to him as my mind forced me to stay motionless, not to throw myself in front of him to protect him, not to give myself away now.

Albus' cheerful tones snapped me back to the present. "Yes, yes your meeting this evening, I quite understand, but I'm afraid this just can't wait."

"All right, Headmaster, I'll be with you in a few moments," I replied wearily.

His annoyingly cheery face vanished and I sighed. I owe Albus more than I can ever repay but his incessantly jovial demeanour can be very wearing at times and tonight of all nights I was in no mood to face it. I dragged my aching body from the depths of my comfortable chair and hastily summoned a fresh set of robes. After returning from my meeting with Voldemort I had simply collapsed into the chair too tired and too depressed to move, but I suspected that tonight might turn out to be a long night and clean, well-pressed robes would make me feel more like my normal self and act as a shield against whatever trials Albus had decided to throw at me now.

When I had finished dressing I threw a handful of Floo Powder into the fire and, stating my destination, I stepped into the flames.

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