Written for Stasia at the 2012 Snupin_Santa fic exchange on LJ. Thank you to my beta, you rock! Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe – all recognizable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Warning: Implied drug usage and withdrawal. If this subject matter is triggery, please read elsewhere.

"Ow! Really, if you want to pull my kidney out of my body by way of my arse, at least buy me a drink first."

Healer Melton shook his head in irritation as he prodded the angry welt with first his wand, then his fingers.

"I tried to convince him to seek professional help earlier," Andromeda Tonks said, turning to glare at me as I lay prone on the bed. "But he's as stubborn as he is tall."

"I'm not stubborn," I groused. "I just have instinctual reluctance." My brows creased in a grimace. "Besides, it's no longer a question of staying healthy. It's a question of finding an ailment I can live with."

A particularly heavy press of the Healer's hands on my back made me yelp. "If you keep ignoring your body's cues, you won't have that problem." He released me from his grip. "You'll be dead."

Muttering under her breath about obstinate wizards, Andromeda shifted my son on her hip. "That's not an option, Remus. Think about Teddy. He's already lost his mother, it would be devastating if—"

"I know, Andromeda!" I snapped, but the look in her eyes immediately made me regret my tone. "I just…"

"Here." Healer Melton scribbled on a piece of parchment and handed it to me. "Supplement the Wolfsbane with this, and the worst of the joint swelling should ease up. Use it this time. The potions made by John Nussey's apothecary are marginally better than the one the Ministry makes."

I sighed heavily. "Still not as potent as what I had two years ago."

"Unfortunately, we don't have that particular expert available to us anymore, Mr. Lupin."

I nodded, then folded the parchment and tucked it in my trouser pocket. "Thanks."

Melton put a hand on my arm. "I can't stress how important it is that you keep the joint swelling to a minimum after a transformation. You've already developed a swan-neck deformity of the fingers on your left hand, and I noticed a slight swelling in your pericardium. If you don't control it, you risk permanent damage—not to mention an agonising death. St. Mungo's has a good recovery rate, I'd hate for you to blow it for us."

Andromeda gasped and cuddled Teddy closer as he began to fuss. "I'll make sure that he takes the potions, Healer Melton." She speared me with a heated glare. "All of them."

I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth against the pain in my ankles as I stood. Bloody hell, there wasn't one inch of my body that didn't ache. Even though I'd been given a potion liberally laced with Hypericum, which reduced the worst of my symptoms, I still felt like a reanimated Inferi—brittle, falling apart, but still moving. If I could just make it to the door without embarrassing myself…

After three steps, I knew I wouldn't make it. Just as I stumbled, Andromeda's strong hand gripped my elbow and kept me upright. "Only a little further," she whispered.

Biting my lower lip so I wouldn't do something as unmanly as crying, I cleared my throat and straightened myself as much as I could. Determined not to falter again, I slowly left the Healer's office, Andromeda and Teddy in tow. By the time we made it to the lifts—four floors of stairs were out of the question—the potion was finally allowing me to move a bit more freely, and I sagged against the wall.

Andromeda's gaze softened. "Better?" At my nod she pursed her lips. "This is the worst episode yet, Remus. It would be one thing if I knew the spell Dolohov cursed you with; I could at least research counter-measures. But with him dead, it's a moot point." She pressed the call button for the lift. "I may be a very powerful Healer in my own right, but I don't have access to the resources that can help you. I can't treat you effectively anymore."

I had known this already. It really wasn't fair to keep asking her to be a pseudo-Healer to a broken werewolf, yet she had done it willingly over the year and a half that had passed since that terrible day last May when Dora had died.

I had asked her once how she could continue to be gracious and compassionate towards me, when I had effectively gotten her daughter killed. She had given me a small smile, though her eyes were full of grief. "You did no such thing, Remus. My daughter had a mind of her own, as you well know." She had looked away for a moment, her hand idly stroking the band of gold still on her left ring finger. "I know what it's like to lose a spouse," she had said softly. "I wouldn't wish that misery on anyone, and I have no wish to add to your pain. If Nymphadora had been half as stubborn as I was at that age, you'd have marched down the aisle much sooner!" We had laughed after that, laughed until it had broken down into sobs, the pain still so fresh, but smoothed over when we had heard Teddy gurgle with delight while playing with his stuffed dragon.

I often asked the Fates why I had been spared and Dora had not. They were resolutely silent, as always. I stopped asking after Teddy said his first words: Da-Da. At that point I realized it didn't matter—I had Teddy, and he needed me.

As the lift gate opened and we entered, Teddy reached out to me with open arms, wanting to be held. I wanted to take him, I really did, but given my condition, I worried I would drop him. Andromeda, blessed saint that she was, moved closer and wrapped her free arm around me, holding Teddy close so the toddler could cuddle with me.

"Thank you," I murmured over Teddy's head.

She nodded. Words were not needed. I suppose it might seem odd to the casual observer, this close relationship with my mother-in-law, but I was extremely grateful that she wanted to help me and Teddy rebuild our lives. I knew that she missed her husband, as I missed my wife; I had caught glimpses of her red-rimmed eyes, seen her sit in the living room for hours on end, staring out the window as if Ted might come through the door any minute. I knew that she desperately missed her daughter, no less fiercely than I. Both Andromeda and I were broken people, trying to mend themselves the best they could.

As we reached the ground floor I pointed down the corridor. "I'll be right back. Loo."

"Are you able to make it there? Should I help?"

I waved my hand at her. "No, I'm all right. Just keep Teddy entertained."

Andromeda snorted and shook her head. "Easier said than done. Go on, then. And don't crack that skull of yours on the porcelain. I'd be quite upset if I had to tell Teddy his father expired in the men's toilet."

"The horror," I teased.

I ambled past several rooms full of bustling medical staff and patients of all sorts, gritting my teeth to keep up an appearance of ease. Upon reaching the gents, the last of my reserve strength gave out, and I had to brace myself on the doorframe before even contemplating opening the door. As I placed my hand on the knob, a gruff voice came from behind me.

"Closed for Grindylow infestation." I turned to see an old man in custodian overalls—a more haggard version of Mad-Eye Moody, if that was possible—pointing at the sign on the door. "Sewage pipes in Muggle London burst last night and an influx of the buggers flooded our system." The grizzled man leaned forward, his breath atrocious. "If you be needing to take a piss, I suggest the ward at the end of that hall." He nodded towards a dark corridor with a single distant light trying, and mostly failing, to make its presence known.

I swallowed against the rising nausea from the old man's fetid stench. My sense of smell had, of course, always been hypersensitive, but the man in front of me seemed particularly pungent, as if he were the one who'd had his elbows deep in Grindylow muck. I considered waiting until we returned home to relieve myself, but the insistent press of my bladder told me I was closer to embarrassment than I had thought. Heaving a sigh, I took another look down the forbidding stretch of hallway.

"Down there, eh?"

The custodian gave me a crooked smirk. "In the Dai Llewellyn Ward. Only working loo on this floor, but most folks make a mad dash for the second floor rather than go in there."

"Why? What's in there?"

A casual shrug, almost too casual. "Dunno. Been empty all this time `cept for one patient, but they keep him nicely tucked away, they do."

My curiosity was getting the better of me. "Why? Is he deformed? Was he bitten?"

Bushy silver eyebrows rose, but other than that slight reaction, the custodian affected a blank look. "It's none of my never mind. I ain't saying a word." The man backed up a few steps and shuffled off.

I frowned. It was almost as if the man had been partially Obliviated—to not recall who was in the ward, but clearly he knew it had a toilet. Really, the whole thing was beyond odd. Shaking my head, I walked quickly—the urge was getting stronger—to the corner and turned down the dim hallway. After a dozen yards, I reached a door that I could sense was heavily warded.

"Damn," I muttered. I withdrew my wand and tried several spells to unravel the intricate wards, but none of them worked. Whatever was behind this door was clearly supposed to remain hidden, though I couldn't imagine what would warrant such high security, in hospital of all places. Just as I was about to give up and discreetly find a potted plant, I heard a muffled bang from behind the door.

Oh, now I had to know what was in that room! Redoubling my efforts, I tried a few more advanced spells, even some that Dumbledore had taught me on the sly. Sweat dotted my upper lip, my teeth clenched and I forgot all about my need to empty my bladder. Just as I was on the verge of giving up in frustration, I heard the soft snick of something falling into place, and the door's locking mechanism clicked and shifted like cogs in a clock.

I stepped back as the door slowly opened, then I peered around the edge. The room beyond was small, dingy, and had only one window barred with a metal grate, but it was illuminated by a number of shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. There was a lone bed near the window, a bedside table stacked high with books, a writing desk shoved up against the right-hand wall covered in rolls of parchment and next to it, a wing-back chair whose leather had seen better days.

The air was thick and stagnant, as if the room hadn't been aired out in months. Dust motes drifted lazily in the afternoon sunlight that filtered through the tiny square of frosted glass. Clearly the room was inhabited; bedclothes and a dressing gown were thrown haphazardly over the end of the bed, and the desk was clean of dust. Seeing no one, I entered cautiously, made my way over to the bed and picked up the clothing. Lifting the fabric to my nose, I inhaled, calling on a sense of smell that stretched well beyond a human's capability.

A complex scent teased my olfactory nerves, a scent I had not encountered in at least two years. I shook my head. It couldn't be! I shifted the dressing gown to find where the scent was strongest, near the underarm, and detected a subtle oily chemical compound that made my nose twitch. No, that wasn't right. Must be a side-effect of the potion I had just taken. Clutching the gown in my hand, I scanned the room for any information as to its occupant.

A quick glance at the books on the bedside table revealed that they were the oddest mixture of wizarding titles and Muggle classics. Hogwarts: A History sat next to Hamlet. I moved over to the scroll-covered desk and sifted through the papers piled haphazardly on it. The handwriting seemed familiar, tiny and angular, but in some instances it became sloppy, as if the scribe had fallen asleep as they were writing. There were treatises on biology, herbology, chemistry and geology. One touted the benefits of powdered moonstone over crushed. Another extolled the virtues of brass scales over gold when it came to measuring ingredients for… potions.

Heart pounding from a combination of anger and excitement, I pulled the dressing gown to my nose once more, and breathed deeply. The same multifaceted scent flooded my being—sandalwood, with subtle notes of vetiver; wood smoke and myrrh, all overlaid with that cloyingly sweet trace chemical. An opioid derivative, if I was not mistaken. I buried my face in the fabric again, nuzzling the material, rubbing the scent on my skin; it reminded me of…

"If this is a new form of therapy, I am not amused. In fact, I think I shall burn that garment."

Though I had heard the distinct sound of a toilet flushing in the background, I had forgotten my surroundings in my focus on identifying the unknown person's scent, forgotten that this was someone's room. Slowly, so as not to overtax my weakened joints and collapse to the floor in a heap, I turned and stared at the man that had apparently just emerged from the only functioning loo on the first floor of St. Mungo's hospital. My mind searched for any rational explanation for what, or rather whom, I was looking at. It couldn't be, but it was: Severus Snape.

Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're not my Healer."

"What? No," I whispered. I dropped the dressing gown on the floor and clutched the footboard of the bed to keep myself upright. "I… I'm…" Emotions clogged my throat. I was at a loss; I couldn't articulate anything that didn't sound asinine. The scent had not been wrong! But how? The man whose smell was all over this room was supposed to be dead. How in Merlin's name could he be here in St. Mungo's? Harry had been to his funeral!

"You look on the verge of an apoplectic fit. Do not think to have a seizure in here, sir."

Sir? Since when had there ever been that sort of respect between the two of us? Or any sort, for that matter? "Wouldn't dream of it," I rasped. "How did you…" I trailed off at his look of confusion. Something was not right. The wizard standing before me—dressed in black linen trousers and a lose-fitting black shirt—should have been railing and ranting at me, not calling me 'sir'. I frowned and cleared my throat. "Do you know who I am?"

The other man tilted his head, wincing when he bent too far to the right. "You seem very… familiar. Are you a former colleague? I am told I had colleagues before."

"Before what?"

Thin, long fingers rubbed in circles on his temples, trying to ease the apparent strain. "I can't remember. Haven't I told you bloody people enough already?" he said through gritted teeth.

There was that banked intensity I remembered! But I could see he was struggling, fatigue obvious in his eyes. Recalling the smell of opiates, and the memory loss that such use could occur, I licked my lips and hoped I wasn't making a colossal mistake. "Do you know who you are?"

A frustrated expression flitted across the dark features. "I… it's there, on the edge, but if I try to concentrate, the knowledge fades away."

Dear Merlin. The man had no idea who he even was. What were they doing with him in here? I sank down onto the end of the bed, my mind running through all the possible scenarios that could've taken place after the war. How had he ended up here, of all places, in this cramped cell, with no memory of who he had been, what he had done? The adrenalin-fuelled rush I had felt earlier dissipated, leaving an unpleasantly giddy feeling. I searched for the anger I thought was the source, but found only curiosity, maybe even a bit of pity.

He had been watching me closely. "You know who I am, don't you?"

The innocent question seemed out jarringly of place coming from this particular wizard, who had in fact played so many complex roles: Death Eater, teacher, traitor, spy, and finally hero. I nodded. "Would you like me to tell you?"

Thinned lips. "Of course I want you to tell me. What sort of impertinent question is that? Imbecile," he muttered.

I couldn't help the smirk that spread across my face. Even with only a few memories, some things about this man would forever be the same. I never would have guessed I'd miss that quick temper and sharp tongue. "Your name is Severus Snape. We were… at school together."

He nodded curtly and then began to pace the length of the room. "That is why you seem familiar. Of course, it makes sense now." He came to an abrupt halt and stared at me. "Am I to be released, then? Is that why you're here?"

"No. I didn't even know you were here, Severus," I admitted.

He frowned. "Then what do you want?" Before I could even formulate an answer, he must have drawn his own conclusions. His breath came more rapidly, almost gasping, as he took a step towards the door. "No, I said no more!" he shouted. "I won't take them, damn you!" He began to pound on the door, his face twisted in despair and fear.

Though I had no clue what he was talking about, I cautiously went to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Severus, no. Severus! Stop. I'm not going to do anything to you."

The shouts ceased, but beneath my hand I could feel him shaking. "No more," he pleaded on a hitched sob. "I don't remember anything."

"It's alright," I said, keeping my voice low and soothing. "No more, I promise." I had no idea if I could keep my promise to prevent whatever happened to him from occurring again, but I couldn't help but respond to the desperation evident in his behaviour. I tugged at his arm gently and led him to the chair. "Sit down, please." As he did so, I felt a twinge in my abdomen, reminding me that I still needed to relieve myself. "I'm going to use the loo," I told him, still holding onto his arm, "and then we'll talk, all right?"

Severus nodded and looked away, fear evident in his posture. His fingers curled into the tattered leather of the chair, his nails scratching deep. Studying the chair, I saw that there were many such marks littering the material, and I wondered what in bloody hell they had been doing to him.

Once my business was finished, I heaved a huge sigh of relief and made a mental note never to wait that long again. When I re-entered the tiny room, Severus had not moved from the chair and seemed to be off in a world of his own. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to gauge his condition and mental state. Though he was always thin to begin with, his face now was gaunt, more so than I'd ever seen it before. There were deep purple smudges underneath his eyes, which were bloodshot and the lids red, as though he had been rubbing them or—was it possible?—weeping. His lips were cracked, his nose chapped and raw. Horrible scarring twisted down the left side of his neck, no doubt from Voldemort's snake. If the wounds had been as severe as Harry had told us, and certainly the latticework of scars indicated so, it was a wonder the man hadn't bled out in seconds. Or had he? None of this made any sense.

I had been incapacitated for nearly two months after the final battle, so I only had second-hand accounts to go on. Harry had told me that he'd had to fight to have Severus buried with honour, but he had prevailed, and there had been a small service and burial in Godric's Hollow. Though I'd questioned him many times since then about the propriety of having Severus laid to rest so close to James and Lily, Harry remained tight-lipped about the whole thing, stating merely that Snape would've wanted it that way.

So why was the wizard in question sitting here before me, very much alive? I was half in shock, half riddled with curiosity. The only people powerful enough for a cover-up of this magnitude were undoubtedly part of the Ministry. Probably Unspeakables. I shuddered. If Unspeakables were involved, Snape was either a serious threat or perceived as one. His wary gaze kept shifting between the door, me and the window, as if expecting an attack any second. The longer I watched him, the more agitated he became, and the stench of his paranoia began to fill the room.

Moving slowly so as not to startle him, I leaned forward and placed my hand atop his, rubbing the chilled, chafed skin over his knuckles. "I promise I won't hurt you," I said softly.

His eyes darted to mine, holding the stare until he seemed to relax a fraction. "Please…" he whispered.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight and painful. I had never seen Severus in such a pathetic state and my heart lurched in my chest. "Please what, Severus?"

He turned his hand over and grasped mine, tight. "Please take me away from here."

My eyes widened. How in Merlin's name could I remove a patient from St. Mungo's? Especially one that I was sure was hidden for reasons the Ministry clearly wanted kept secret? "I don't know if I—"

"I'll do anything!" he said fervently, the words tumbling out in a flood. "I remember how to brew; let me brew for you! Any potion you like. Or my body! Yes, my body. I know it's not much to look at, but you may have it, any way you wish." His brows creased in a frown. "No, not my body. Perhaps a house? I'm sure I have one, I remember bits of my childhood in Cokeworth. It's yours if you facilitate my departure!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him that the property in Spinner's End had been destroyed in a fire. But what worried me most was the frantic need to leave this place, so much so that he would promise me the use of his body, as if it were an object to be bartered! Bile roiled in my stomach at the thought of someone imposing their will on Severus in that way.

I shook my head, but kept hold of his hand. "You don't need to offer me anything, Severus. I wouldn't take it, regardless."

"But I must leave! Please," he begged.

That, more than anything, shocked me into silence. Severus Snape, always so arrogant and contemptuous, reduced to begging. It was as if fire were cold, or water were dry. How could I ignore the desolate look on the man's face? His body radiated fear and anguish. I couldn't. I just couldn't. Then again, I knew nothing of his condition—it might be the worst decision of my life, even if I could come up with a way to quietly extract Severus from this ward. After all, it wasn't like I could just walk out the front door with him...

Andromeda and Teddy. "Damn!" They were still waiting for me at the front door, probably wondering by now if I'd fallen into the toilet and drowned.

Severus clutched my hand tightly, painfully so. "Don't leave me here!"

I blew out a pent up breath. "I won't. Sorry about that. I just remembered something." I tried to get him to release the grip on my fingers. "I need to find someone. I'll be right back, I swear to you."

Panic, raw and agonising, exploded across his face. "No! You'll never come back! Please, no!"

I needed to find Andromeda and Teddy, needed time to formulate some sort of plan of escape, but I couldn't leave him in this state. I had no way of calming him down with words, clearly, so I did the only thing I could think of: I leaned forward and wrapped him a strong embrace.

He stiffened at first, but then I felt thin arms inch their way around me until he was practically clinging to me for dear life. I stroked his back soothingly, feeling every vertebra on his painfully thin back. He shuddered and buried his sniffling nose in my neck. I tried not to cringe at the sensation, or the smell of his stringy hair, which reeked of that oily, sweet chemical.

We stayed that way for several moments until I could feel the tense muscles of his shoulders sag somewhat. When I pulled away, Severus looked shamefaced.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I-I don't know what came over me." He coughed—racking barks that rattled deep in his lungs—and I handed him a glass of water that I conjured with a quick Aguamenti. He gulped the liquid down, then cleared this throat. "I know you are trying to help. My apologies for being a hindrance."

If the situation weren't so grim, I would have laughed at the idea of Severus Snape apologizing. For anything. "You're not a hindrance, Severus." I conjured more water into the glass and bade him drink it more slowly this time. He seemed quite parched. "I need help to get you out of here. Secret help, and I can't get that unless I leave for a little while. But I promise I will return."

Though he nodded, I could see the resignation in his eyes, the conviction that I would depart and not think twice about leaving him to rot here. There was no way to convince him otherwise, unless I actually followed through on my promise. I stood, grimacing at the pain that shot through my knees at the prolonged immobility. I didn't look back to see if he watched me leave; I could feel his hard gaze on my back as I closed the door and restored the wards that had kept Severus hidden.

I travelled back down the long, dim hallway, around the corner into the main corridor, and was halfway to the front door when a familiar voice stopped me.

"Remus!"

I turned sharply. "Andromeda!" The perturbed look on her face made it clear she had been searching for me for a long while. Instead of joining her, however, I motioned for her to follow me. "Come with me, you're not going to believe this."

Andromeda frowned as she came towards me, Teddy on her hip. "Where have you been? I didn't realise you needed to—"

"I found something," I interrupted what was sure to be a tongue-lashing. "Or, more accurately, someone."

She gave me a look of fond exasperation. "I think the potion has reached its full potency. You're talking nonsense."

I shook my head. "Really, you have to see this." I checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was following us, and then drew her down the corridor. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You'll have to see for yourself."

"Told me what, Remus?"

I didn't answer, simply removed the wards again and led her inside Severus' room. She looked around, grimacing at the state of shabbiness, and then her gaze fell on Severus, who still sat in the leather chair, his eyes wide as saucers. "You came back," he whispered.

"That's… I don't… how…" she spluttered, clutching Teddy closer to her.

"My thoughts exactly," I whispered in her ear. "He doesn't remember much. Didn't know who I was, only that I was familiar."

"Dear Merlin," she gasped. "He looks wretched."

Severus scowled at her soft words. "Come to gawk, have we?" he snarled.

"Severus, calm down. She's here to help," I reassured him. He gave me a mutinous sneer and turned away.

Andromeda gave me a sharp look. "Help with what? What has got into that head of yours, Remus Lupin?"

I was a grown man, but by Zeus, one of her glares could make a person shrivel inside. Must be a Black family trait. "We need to get him out of here," I said.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why? He's been considered dead for over a year, so far as the rest of the world knows. To what purpose?"

"Because something is very wrong with him being here." I lowered my voice. "He's being held against his will, tortured for information, information he doesn't even remember at this point, and they're drugging him in the meanwhile. This isn't how you heal someone! I can't tell if the memory loss is due to the treatment or if that happened beforehand."

Gathering Teddy close, she whispered heatedly, "Perhaps there's a reason he's being tortured, Remus. Let's not forget he killed Dumbledore."

I shook my head. "You've heard Harry's story, what he saw in the Pensieve. Snape was under orders from Dumbledore himself, his death was planned. Snape was a double agent for the Order."

"Memories can be altered," she pointed out.

"Andromeda, everyone thought he died in the Shrieking Shack, even Harry. Someone doesn't want the world to know Snape's alive."

"I don't like it," she grumbled as she studied Snape, who was slouched in the chair, his back turned to them. "It stinks of Ministry politics."

I couldn't help but agree. "That's why he needs to get out of here." I stroked Teddy's pink hair. "I don't think they mean for him to survive their questioning, not with the way he looks. He's got maybe another month."

When Andromeda pursed her lips, I knew she had capitulated. "Let me examine him," she said with a sigh, handing Teddy to me. She walked over to Snape and gently laid a hand on his forearm. "Severus?"

He didn't answer, only curled further into himself, ducking his head away.

"My name is Andromeda Tonks. Do you remember me?" she tried again.

This got a baleful look and a shake of Snape's head, then he was back to ignoring her.

Crouching low, she placed her hand on Snape's knee. "I remember you. Such a gangly, sullen boy. But powerful. Oh, you radiated such power. It's no wonder they were attracted to you."

Severus raised his head a fraction and looked at her from under a fall of stringy, black hair. "Who was?" he muttered. I had to laugh to myself; Andromeda was smart, playing to his vanity like that.

She smiled at Severus. "Do you remember Lucius Malfoy?"

I could see Severus struggling to remember, but ultimately, he sniffed and shook his head.

"That's quite all right. No one wants to remember him anyway," she said with a smirk. "I certainly don't." She rubbed Severus' knee in that motherly way she tended to do with others. "May I have a look at you? I promise it won't hurt."

After several tense moments, he unfurled his limbs and straightened himself in the chair. "Proceed."

Teddy began to fuss, gnawing on his dummy, drool covering his face. I patted his back and made shushing noises, which quieted him for the moment, but judging by the colour of his hair, it was only a matter of time before he went into a full tantrum.

Andromeda was focused on Severus, her Healer training taking over. She ran her wand over him multiple times, her frown increasing as she moved from one area to another. "When was the last time you ate anything substantial?"

"Two days ago." As if on cue, Severus' stomach rumbled, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Remus, this is…" She shook her head in dismay. "Severus, do you know what kind of potions or medications they're giving you?"

Severus' breath came faster as dread vibrated his frame—just talking about it seemed to send him to the edge of panic. "It's black and tastes like bitter liquorice. They make me take it every other day. Normally I would try to assess the ingredients, to determine what they're giving me…" He paused, his anxiety fading into a blank look. "But I don't remember very much afterwards."

"Did you receive a dose today?"

He shook his head. "I thought that was why he was here," he said, pointing at me.

Andromeda patted Severus' knee and stood. She looked around, evidently searching for something.

"What is it?" I asked, sensing the rising tension emanating from her.

"You were right, Remus. We have to get him out of here." She spied the dressing gown I had dropped on the floor and retrieved it, only to lay it on Severus' bed. "This works better if it is personal to the replica," she muttered.

"What is? Andromeda, what are you doing?" Teddy whimpered, reacting to my concern and confusion.

She didn't answer me. "Severus, may I have a lock of your hair to make it authentic?" He nodded, and she snipped three long strands which she then tucked inside one of the gown pockets. Taking a deep breath, she began weaving a spell I had never heard before.

By the time she was finished, my mouth was gaping in astonishment. An exact duplicate of Severus Snape lay on the bed, motionless, clothed in his dressing gown. "How did you—"

"It's a golem," she said hurriedly. "It looks, smells, and is, down to the genetic level, identical to Severus in all ways that matter, at least to the Ministry. If we are to have any hope of avoiding pursuit, they must think Severus died here." She tugged Severus to his feet. I watched in surprise as Andromeda withdrew Harry's Invisibility Cloak from the nappy bag we had brought with us for Teddy. "Here, put this over your head."

"Why do you have Harry's cloak?"

She gave me an irritated look. "He left it at our house the last time he visited. I was going to drop it off with him today, since we were in London, but I think we are in need of it just now." She watched as Severus donned the cloak, tugging and pulling here or there to make sure he was completely covered. Satisfied, she nodded towards the door. "Now, quickly. I've charmed the golem to last forty-eight hours, which should be plenty of time for any Ministry personnel to find him and declare him deceased… again. I don't want to be observed leaving here, however, so we must be discreet."

I gave her a lop-sided grin. Here I was, trying to come up with a plan, any plan, to rescue Severus, and Andromeda whirls in, forms a strategy on the spot and even provides the means for the escape. Besides being a Muggle-loving member of the Black family—which would have been a death sentence in and of itself only a few short years ago—she was a formidable witch in her own right. No wonder the Death Eaters had considered her a dangerous threat. I was very glad she was on our side.

As we stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, and I restored the wards on Severus' room, Teddy began his full-on fuss. "Shhh, Ted. Soon, I promise. We'll be home soon."

Though he quieted, my fears of detection were realised when an employee in a green robe spotted us in the hallway. "This area is restricted," the man stated. His voice sounded menacing, though that could have just been my guilty conscience.

"I was looking for the loo," I said sheepishly. It was the truth. Partly.

The wizard studied us with piercing grey eyes. "The men's loo is broken on this floor."

"Now you tell me?" I huffed. "I've got incontinence problems, and you lot let me wander around searching for a toilet. I ought to report you the Ministry!"

An uncomfortable look graced the Medi-wizard's face. "Sorry about that. Let me show you—"

"Forget it," I growled. "I can Floo home quicker than your incompetent arse can—"

"Through there," the Medi-wizard hastily said, pointing to a set of double-doors. "The Floo can be accessed there."

I snarled at him for good measure. "I should—"

"Remus, do remember Teddy… and our other obligations," Andromeda said, forcefully.

"Be glad I'm in a hurry," I snapped at the now nervous wizard.

I quickly followed Andromeda to the hearths linked to the Floo network, keeping my senses attuned to Severus in case he faltered.

"Indulging your theatrical talents overmuch, don't you think?" Andromeda muttered under breath. She shook her head, laughing. "Incontinence?" She snorted. "I'm surprised you didn't just cock up your hind leg and spray his atrocious robes."

I bit my lips to keep from grinning. "Not a bad idea." As we stepped into the hearth, I left a respectable space between Andromeda and me and felt Severus slip into the gap. It wasn't until we landed safely in Andromeda's sitting room that I felt the tension ease from my chest.