Sirius Black sighed deeply as the last of the Order members left 12 Grimmauld Place.

The announcement of the Potters' return had been as explosive as he and Harry had expected, and many had lingered after the meeting. Some wanted to discuss the repercussions this would have, others just wanted to greet their old friends James and Lily. A few wanted to meet this newly minted Boy-Who-Lived, at once similar and yet so different from the Gryffindor they thought they had known.

Sirius did not share their enthusiasm for this latest turn of events. After all, none of them had spent an hour before the Order meeting with the Potters, had they?

James and Lily had retired to their guest room upstairs, and Jamie had taken the room normally shared by Ron and Harry. Dumbledore and Doge had left together, talking animatedly about the upcoming Wizengamot agenda. Everyone else was gone.

Almost everyone else.

Sirius walked into the kitchen, careful to keep his hands in view. He left the room in its darkened state, not wanting to provoke his guest. With a smirk, he spoke to the shadows.

"Would you like some tea?"

Severus Snape stepped forward, out of the shadows in the corner of the room. His wand was out, and aimed directly at Sirius.

"Did you know?" asked the Potions Master.

Sirius turned slowly, facing toward Snape. He kept his hands out, and made no sudden moves. He looked at the man, and saw the rage on his features, ending any impulse to make light of the situation. No, his question could have only one answer.

"I found out at the Ministry, just as Harry did," Sirius said, calmly. "I was never told of any plans that involved anyone going into hiding, except under the fidelius."

Snape did not lower his wand. "Why did you go to Azkaban? They could have gotten you out. She could have gotten you out."

Sirius scowled. "They claim that Dumbledore kept them in the dark until it was too late. He told them that revealing themselves would waste their sacrifice."

"What sacrifice?" Snape spat. "They had everything they cared about, and wanted for nothing."

Sirius nodded. "Seems that way, yeah."

The two men stood there, in the darkened kitchen, regarding each other. In a bid to lower the tension, Sirius took a seat at the table. He smiled as he saw Harry's red 'Royal Navy' mug still sitting on the table. He idly pushed at the handle, turning it around in its place, as he considered his next words.

Snape took the seat across from Sirius, unknowingly choosing the seat in which Lily Potter had been reunited with the younger of her two sons. He saw the mug, and was surprised to see such a thing in a magical home, but said nothing about it.

After a few minutes of silence, the Professor spoke quietly.

"Potter told me…." Snape began, before sighing when he realized what he had said. "Fuck."

Sirius couldn't help it. He chuckled. "Yeah, that's a thing."

"I will not call the boy 'Harry'," Snape retorted.

"I'd be shocked if you did," replied Sirius. "But go on. Harry did something."

Snape glared at his host for a moment, before continuing. "Yes. He told me that I should keep my Slytherin wits about me."

Sirius nodded again. That sounded like something Harry would say.

"And he was right," Snape said, quietly, the anger fading from his voice. "My first impulse was to leave. And I would have."

"He knew you were smarter than that," said Sirius. "But he needs you on mission."

Snape's eyes narrowed at that. "Is that a muggle saying?" The man's distaste at that notion was obvious, and it drew a smirk from Sirius.

"From their military, yes. When you have an objective, you have to make sure that everything you do brings you closer to achieving that objective." Sirius' expression grew sober, as he met the gaze of his childhood nemesis.

"The question for you, then, is this - what is your objective, Severus Snape?"

oOoOoOoOo

None of the three wizards ever expected to be sitting at the same table, in an old muggle house in Cokesworth of all places, charting the next moves in a rapidly expanding civil war.

Sirius Black's recent actions, and his willingness to put his own hard-won freedom at risk for his godson, had forced Snape to re-evaluate the man. Azkaban had not forced him to grow up, for he had been his old immature self not long after the Order reformed a year ago. Rather, it seemed that whatever had convinced Harry Potter to grow up so quickly had carried over to Black.

The marauder of old would never have shown up to assist a Slytherin, especially not the son of a death eater. Yet here he was.

The change in perspective went both ways. Sirius had not expected Snape to approach him after the return of the Potters, but in hindsight it was an obvious move. Snape and Lily had grown up together, this was no secret - and to learn that she had been complicit in a deception of this magnitude was shocking. Sirius had never seen the man so flustered as he had that night.

If Severus Snape was anything, however, he was a consummate Slytherin. The Professor's agreement to work with Sirius - and, by extension, with Harry - was as jarring in the moment as it was obvious in hindsight. Snape was 'on mission' now. Their alliance had been tense at first, but Sirius had come to respect the Potions Master.

They'd never be truly friendly, of course. But they didn't have to be.

Ambrose Rookwood looked between the two older men, and wasn't quite sure what to think. He had known, as many did, that Snape was a link between the Order and the Death Eaters. He also knew that the Professor's true loyalty was often found with a third group - his Slytherins. At least in the short term, that made his home a sanctuary. Now, Rookwood learned that his professor knew the exonerated mass murderer Sirius Black, and could summon him at will.

Rookwood had never really studied the man, even after his escape. Beyond knowing of his relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived, he had not been a piece on the board. As a fugitive, he could not take up his Lordship, nor could he wield the galleons of the Blacks to oppose the Dark Lord. In short, he hadn't been important.

Now, here he sat, listening to Professor Snape explain Pansy Parkinson's situation.

After a thoughtful minute, Sirius sighed. "I figured there was some hope for Harry's brother, you know? He seemed like a decent kid, despite the whole faking-his-death thing." He looked over to Ambrose. "And he didn't say anything to you when you dropped her off at Longbottom Hall?"

Ambrose shook his head. "I sort of threatened him, and he didn't even respond."

"That's out of character," said Snape.

"Yes it is," agreed Sirius. "Harry would have at least made you reveal your arms."

Ambrose glared at Sirius. "Even after I basically called him out for killing my father?"

Sirius looked at him evenly. "Even then. If you weren't already flinging spells at him, that is."

"I doubt that."

A shrug. "Harry isn't going to target civilians if he can help it," continued Sirius. "Refuse to take the mark, and swear to stay out of the conflict? Yes, Harry would leave you be. Take the mark, and all bets are off. But he'd be damn sure you don't have the mark first."

Rookwood's shoulders sagged. "I should have known it wasn't him. I should have stopped her."

Sirius sipped his tea. "How many conversations have you had with Harry? How well do you know him? They are twins, after all."

"None of that helps us with the problem at hand," Snape said, bringing the topic back around. "Miss Parkinson is being held by the Order, for reasons unknown."

"Not unknown," Ambrose replied. "Her uncle wants her to take the dark mark, to solidify his control over the Parkinson seat in the wizengamot. I'm betting that Dumbledore wants something similar."

Sirius opened his mouth to object, but then stopped himself. After hearing the Headmaster's plans to remove Harry as Lord of the Potter family, the idea that he might try to subvert another house wasn't so crazy after all.

At the back of his mind, he wondered if the Black Lordship had factored into his little trip to Azkaban.

"The Headmaster needs to be in control," Snape observed. "He expects to become Chief Warlock once again, and needs votes to do it. If he cannot secure the Potter vote, then the Parkinson vote would be a useful replacement."

Sirius shook his head. "We literally have a madman killing at random, and Dumbledore is playing at politics."

"It looks that way," agreed Ambrose. "And Pansy is paying the price for it."

Snape looked at his student, his expression unreadable. "I cannot just enter Longbottom Hall, they locked down their wards after the return of Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"So they did," Sirius replied, nodding. "But they didn't hand over the wards to Lord Longbottom. They didn't have a chance to."

Ambrose knew that there was more to the story, but his worry and impatience got the better of him, in that moment.

"How does that help us?" he snapped.

Sirius looked at him, and grinned. "How would you like to visit Greengrass Manor?"

oOoOoOoOo

Despite a very polite invitation from Alice Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson did not attend breakfast the next morning. Her absence was the topic of quiet speculation between the Potters and the Longbottoms, as Jamie and Trevor looked on.

"At least she is safe here," Frank Longbottom said.

Trevor chose to speak up. "She thinks she's a prisoner here," he said.

Frank looked at his son, and frowned. "There's nowhere else to send her, Trevor," he replied.

"Maybe," Trevor answered. "If she asked to leave, would we let her?"

Frank's expression hardened. "The Longbottoms promised her safety, we will provide it. It is not up to her to decide how we provide that safety."

"Is her vote in the Wizengamot a condition of that promise?" Jamie asked, quietly. "The Headmaster seemed to hint as much, at least according to what Pansy told Trev."

James Potter looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Before he could respond to his son, however, Frank Longbottom banged a fist onto the table.

"Enough!" He growled, and the room silenced. He glared at the boys as he spoke. "This is the course that House Longbottom will follow, and that is the end of the discussion. Am I clear?"

Trevor nodded, but Jamie met his host's eyes with his own.

"Lord Longbottom, sir," he began, the epitome of politeness. "If the Heir Longbottom did not discuss the Parkinson vote when he offered sanctuary, she may feel that asking about it now is a change to the terms of their agreement. Sir."

"More fool, him," muttered James Potter.

Frank shot him a glare, before returning his attention to the boys.

"Neville will accept my decision in this matter," Frank intoned. "If he wishes to remain the heir, that is."

Trevor stood, having finished his meal. Jamie did likewise.

"My lord father," Trevor said, formally. "Are you certain?"

oOoOoOoOo

As the older wizards discussed the situation with Lord Greengrass and Augusta Longbottom, Ambrose Rookwood found himself pulled aside almost as soon as Pansy's name was mentioned. The hand on his arm dragged him into a small sitting room, where he was almost shoved into a waiting chair. If he had not recognized the blonde girl accosting him, he might have reacted poorly when she grabbed him.

Daphne was in Pansy's year. It would make sense for her to worry about her friend.

"What happened, Rookwood?" She snapped. Her wand was in her hand, though it remained pointed at the floor.

He snapped right back. "Pansy's uncle is trying to take over her house. Professor Snape and I are trying to help keep her safe."

Her eyes narrowed. "Her uncle's a death eater."

A nod. "Yes."

Her wand came up, now, aiming at his chest. "You're a death eater, too, if I heard correctly."

Ambrose did not move. "Check my arm, if you like."

Daphne glared at him for a moment. "Fine, then."

Slowly, he reached over to his left wrist, unbuttoning his shirt sleeve. He then rolled the sleeve up, exposing his bare arm. He was not wearing a robe, and so had no outer garment to pull aside.

Daphne saw that he was not marked, and visibly relaxed. Her expression did not soften, however, and she still stood over him, not threateningly but not exactly welcoming, either.

"All I heard was that you were going to take the mark, just as your father did." She kept her eyes on him, as if trying to solve a puzzle. "What changed?"

Ambrose sighed. So much had happened, just these past few weeks, and he had no idea where to begin.

"I was offered the dark mark, actually. Marcus Flint handed me a written invitation to join," Ambrose continued. "I said that I'd join if he required it, but that staying unmarked would let me be more helpful to his cause. That I could gather more information if I was not obviously on his side."

"How did he react to that?" Daphne asked, quietly. Few had said no to the Dark Lord without regretting it.

"No idea," Ambrose replied, honestly. "But before long, he was sending death eaters to drop my wards and storm my family home." He looked up at her, again shaking his head. "And this was all after my father gave his life to the cause, dying on the stone floor of the Department of Mysteries."

Daphne nodded. "Never thought I'd see you supporting Dumbledore, Rookwood."

Ambrose scoffed. "Not doing that, either."

"Really?"

"Really. Pansy went to Neville for protection, specifically to avoid the Headmaster. But no one knew that the Longbottoms had returned, and were working with Dumbledore. So now she's at Longbottom Hall, and neither owls nor elves can reach her."

"You really think they'd do something to her?"

He shrugged. "Her uncle wanted her marked, so she could be ordered to hand over her wizengamot seat. That's why she ran. What would you bet Dumbledore is asking for something similar?"

"After the past few weeks? I don't know," she replied.

"Exactly. Everything's changed."

Daphne gave him a hard stare. After a moment, she put her wand away. "So, then, Ambrose Rookwood, what do you want?"

"I want out," he said, immediately. He hadn't truly made the decision until that moment, but the words seemed to come of their own accord. "What's more, Pansy wants out as well."

Daphne nodded, approvingly. Then she understood why they were here, of all places - not to speak to her grandfather, but to his guest. A woman who currently controlled the wards at Longbottom Hall. Augusta Longbottom, the mother of the current Lord.

They wanted her to let them into the wards. Which meant only one thing.

Daphne laughed. "Ambrose Rookwood, on a rescue mission? How positively Gryffindor of you!"

"Oi!" Ambrose sputtered.

Daphne calmed herself, and gave him a grin. "Now I see why Pansy fancies you."

Ambrose's eyes grew wide, causing Daphne to start laughing again.

oOoOoOoOo

Pansy Parkinson was surprised when her lunch was delivered not by a house elf, but by Jamie Potter and Trevor Longbottom. They did not attempt to engage her in conversation, but simply stood by the door and spoke quietly to each other.

When she finished her sandwich, she noticed a slip of parchment under the plate. Reading it, her eyes grew wide.

"What the fuck, Longbottom?" she snarled.

Trevor winced at the venom in her tone, and said nothing. It was Jamie Potter who explained.

"If you withdraw from the agreement you made with Neville, then it would be our task to escort you to the ward line and bid you good day, Heiress Parkinson." Jamie's tone was formal, as if this were just another parley.

Pansy glared at him. "I was told I'd be safe here, but then I was threatened and held prisoner. What stops me from calling the Longbottoms out for their lies?"

Trevor winced again, and glanced over to his friend. Jamie ignored the look, fighting to keep his voice calm.

"Such an accusation would place you at odds with House Longbottom. As you are within their wards, the result would be…. unpleasant."

But ending the agreement without accusing them of lies is just business, she thought. Pansy looked from one boy to the other. "And how long would it take you to escort me out of here?" The unspoken question hung in the air - is this another trick?

Trevor spoke, for the first time. "As long as it takes for you to pack your belongings."

Pansy considered the offer for all of ten seconds, and then stood. Both boys noticed that her wand was already out.

"It is the decision of House Parkinson that the parley agreement as negotiated with House Longbottom is no longer in the best interests of our families."

The three exited the room, and began to walk down the hallway, when they heard the last voice they expected.

"Trevor? Jamie? What's going on?"

Turning, they saw Frank Longbottom drawing his wand.

oOoOoOoOo

Sirius Black glanced over at Snape as they walked up the hill to Longbottom Hall. The Professor's expression, as usual, was unreadable.

Ambrose Rookwood had not joined them, for Augusta Longbottom was still hesitant to open the wards to the son of a death eater. She even paled a bit at allowing Snape in, given his early treatment of Neville in his class. Only Sirius' assurance that he would not be there long convinced her to agree to the plan.

Seeing the look on Snape's face, Sirius knew that the brief visit would still be hard. According to Augusta, the Potters were here, which meant that Lily and James were here. James, he could deal with - the worry was how Snape would react to Lily, and what might be said as a result.

"I'm still surprised she agreed," Sirius said, uncomfortable with the silence.

Snape scoffed at that. "Madam Longbottom has always been underestimated, Black. Even the darker families knew not to anger her."

"And right now, her anger is fixed on her son," agreed Sirius.

Snape nodded. He said nothing more as they approached the doors. A Longbottom elf popped into place, and looked closely at the pair of wizards. Satisfied that they were who he had been expecting, the elf snapped his long fingers, and the doors opened.

Sirius sighed in relief. "Thank you Augusta," he said to himself. Madam Longbottom had come through for them again.

The pair found that the entrance hall was empty. Sirius started to walk toward the grand staircase, heading to the guest rooms above. Snape took his place near the door, in an effort to prevent anyone from locking the manor down and preventing their escape.

Without a word, Sirius walked briskly up the stairs, hoping to reach Pansy's room before he was seen. If they could get in and out without being noticed, so much the better.

It was only a minute before that hope fell apart. A voice came from the side hall, and Snape turned to see the absolute last person he wanted to encounter.

Lily Potter paled as she saw him.

"Severus?"

oOoOoOoOo

Trevor and Jamie shared a glance, wondering what they would tell the Lord Longbottom. They knew that he had ordered Pansy to remain in her room, except for meals, and here they were in the hallway, escorting her somewhere.

Pansy had her hands together, the picture of the elegant pureblooded heiress. That it also kept her hand near her sleeve, and her wand, was secondary.

Before anyone could answer the Lord of the manor, however, another voice came from the other end of the hall.

"Boys, good! You got my message."

Everyone turned to see Sirius Black walking up, his hands in his pockets and an easy manner about him. He was doing his best to look as relaxed and laid back as possible, leaning into the image of a prankster. If asked, he'd say he was trying to look like what a cool uncle would, since he had plenty of lost time to make up with Jamie.

The real target of his performance, though, was glaring at him.

"Sirius, this is a surprise," Frank said, cautiously.

"Surprised me too, Frank," Sirius replied. He nodded at the teens who stood between them. "I take it this young lady is Miss Parkinson?"

"The Heiress Parkinson," Pansy replied stiffly.

Sirius chuckled. "Oh, we're doing that little dance, are we?" He gave her a bow. "In that case, I am Sirius Black, Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, and the Regent Potter. Greetings to you, Heiress."

Pansy curtseyed, as tradition required. Inside, her mind was racing. What was going on?

"What can we help you with, Lord Black?" Frank asked, stiffly. He was annoyed that Sirius had just wandered into his home, even if he was welcome as a member of the order. Another thing to discuss with his mother, if and when - he did not yet have control of the wards, and that was a problem.

"Ah, yes, well," Sirius said, as if he were fumbling about with his responsibility. "The Headmaster asked me to bring Heiress Parkinson, if you please, to his office for a chat."

Frank's eyebrow raised. "Did he?"

"He did," Sirius confirmed.

"I wonder why he didn't tell me, then?" Frank asked, his eyes on Sirius.

Sirius shrugged. "Ours is not to question, Lord Longbottom. I suspect whatever it is, we'll learn about it in a few days."

With a Wizengamot meeting in two days, Sirius' meaning was clear, and Frank nodded. It was all but certain, then, that this was another attempt to get the Parkinson vote. It made sense to Frank - the Headmaster's office could be intimidating, after all, as could the Headmaster himself.

"She will be back tonight, I trust?" Frank asked.

"As soon as her meeting in the Headmaster's office ends, I will get her where she needs to be," Sirius confirmed.

Trevor and Jamie shared another look. Both were surprised that Sirius would run such an errand for the Headmaster, but there was obviously more going on than they knew.

"Very well," Frank said. "We won't keep you."

Sirius bowed again. "Thank you, Lord Longbottom." He motioned for Pansy to follow him.

"And as for you two," Frank continued. "We should talk about why you didn't inform me when you got a message from Lord Black."

Sirius chuckled. "I'd bet they were just eager to help, Frank," he said. "I remember a seventh year prefect who was much the same way. Sound like anyone you know, hmm?"

Frank seemed to relax a little at that. "You may be right," he conceded. Being a year ahead of the famed Marauders kept him busy during his seventh year, even if he ignored most of their shenanigans.

"Maybe," Sirius agreed cheerfully. Then he looked again to Pansy, whose stoic expression had not cracked. "Well, Heiress, we'd best be going." He offered his elbow, in another pureblooded gesture. "Shall we?"

Pansy stared at him, not sure what to think. Trevor and Jamie had been willing to help her escape, but now Sirius Black himself was taking her to Hogwarts, and the Headmaster. But she couldn't exactly run, and she couldn't fight - she did not like her odds, fighting four against one.

With a defeated sigh, she took the offered arm. "Very well, Lord Black," she said, stiffly.

oOoOoOoOo

"Severus?"

Snape stood near the doorway, his arms folded. He wore black robes, not very different from the robes he wore while teaching, and of the same heavier material as well. Intended to protect against accidents while brewing, it now felt like armor.

At the sound of Lily Potter's voice, it had felt like every muscle in his body tensed. He wanted nothing to do with her, not since he learned of her survival. Yet here she was. He had known there was a risk of this very encounter when he agreed to help get one of his Slytherins to safety, and yet he had come anyway.

Black's 'Taking her to Dumbledore' lie was not plausible if he were not present. The Gryffindor had been willing to go it alone, as one might expect. The fact that he had listened to Snape's advice at all showed just how far the new Lord Black had come from their school days.

Now, here he was, looking at his first friend. Her red hair had not changed over the years, only grown longer. She wore a thick muggle apron over her blouse and pants, something she had done when brewing, when she could get away with it. Robes had never been her preference, after all.

Snape carefully avoided her eyes, knowing he would see the same vibrant green he had mourned for a decade and a half. Knowing what he knew now, he did not know if he could hide his anger at the sight of them now.

"Severus, what are you doing here?" asked Lily.

Snape realized that he had not responded to her, letting the moment stretch. That would not do, he thought. He decided to respond formally, to keep distance between them. He could call her Lady Potter, of course, since she had held that title at one point. Madam Potter would work as well, though it was a bit of an insult, as if emphasized her role as the mother of the current Lord. Neither option said what he wanted to say.

He smirked as he gave her a polite nod, and went with his third choice.

"Missus Potter," he drawled.

Lily stared at him, not sure what to make of his response. Severus had always played things close to the vest, as it were, but this was not the response she had expected from her old friend.

"How have you been, Sev?" she tried again.

His expression returned to its usual distasteful glare. "My work is sufficient to occupy my time, as it happens." An answer, certainly, but only just - at least, to the Gryffindor she had been in school. A Slytherin, he knew, would wonder whether he meant the teaching or the brewing or the spying - or the more important task, in his mind, of protecting his students.

She smiled at him, accepting the answer for what it was - a beginning, to her mind.

"It's good to see you healthy, Sev," she said.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I imagine it was quite a shock. Of course, no one seemed to wonder about my reaction to your good health, more's the pity."

Her smile faded. "We couldn't tell you anything…" she began, but he cut her off.

"Save it," he snapped. He felt his anger rising, and found that he didn't care. "It had been years since you and I were close, I understand that. Perhaps we would have reconciled, given time, and perhaps not. I did not, and do not, expect you to trust me." He shook his head, giving her a glare that radiated disappointment. "But your son, Lily, my God what the hell were you thinking?"

Lily glared right back, angry at being called out in such a manner. The muggle curses flowed from him when he really got mad, reminding her that he grew up muggle, just as she had. "You sound like your father when you get angry like that, Severus," she said, tightly.

Snape fought to control his reaction. Of all the people he had been close to over the years, only Lily knew exactly how to hurt him. Comparing him to his father was more brutal than he had expected from her, and he said so.

"Touché," he ground out. "But then, you'd know as much about parenting as he would, it seems."

Lily took a step forward, pointing at him. "How dare you?" she snapped. "Our son is turning out to be a great wizard!"

Snape couldn't help it, he snorted. Lily's glare intensified, and her hand seemed to twitch toward her wand.

"What, did I say a funny thing, Snape?" she growled.

"I'm sure young James Junior is a fine young man, Lily," he said. "But if you meant Harry, then I wonder how you would even know? As far as I can tell, you've spent no more than two hours in his presence."

Lily's eyes widened as she realized her error - she had spent fifteen years, or close to it, with only the one son. Old habits, it seemed, died hard.

"Ah, there she is," he sneered. "So devoted that she even forgets one of her sons."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she snarled.

"Oh, don't I?" Snape replied. "Hidden away in your castle, away from the world, I'm surprised you only had the one child when you came back." He shook his head again, knowing the gesture would only infuriate her all the more. "Was there really no room in your heart for any child other than James Junior?"

"There could have been," she snapped back at him. Then her eyes grew wide, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Snape stared at her, more because of her reaction than what she had said.

She sighed, shaking her head. "We tried for another, not long after we went into hiding. But she came early, and…. We lost her, Sev."

Snape was taken aback by the weight of sorrow in her voice, blended with guilt and regret in equal measure. Part of him - one thought long buried - wanted to step forward and comfort her in her grief. But then his Slytherin side reasserted itself, and he remembered how and why he was speaking to her in the first place.

"My condolences," he said, stiffly. Her eyes widened at his tone, at the cold formality of it. For the first time, she began to realize exactly how badly she had hurt her old friend.

She stared at him, wondering how she could possibly respond, when she heard footsteps approaching the staircase. Sirius Black, with Pansy Parkinson in tow, was walking down the stairs, a polite smile on his face. Pansy's eyes widened at the sight of Snape, but she kept walking.

When he saw Lily, Sirius grinned. "Hey, Lils," he said brightly. "I see old Snivellous here got you talking potions."

"Black," Snape grumbled, annoyed at this part of the plan. He ignored Lily's soft smile at the cheerful man's greeting.

"Just catching up, you old dog," she said, letting the tension drain from her. "Taking her to the Headmaster?" she asked, unable to think of another reason for bringing the girl anywhere.

Sirius nodded. "The good Professor and I get to play messenger."

"Yes," Snape drawled as he turned, eager to look anywhere but at Lily. "The Headmaster believed that Lord Black needed a task suited to his attention span."

"He said something like that, yes," Sirius agreed happily. Then he paused. "Now, where are we taking this one?"

"This one has a name," Pansy growled.

"Miss Parkinson," Snape said in a stern tone. "Please behave."

Pansy, still shocked to see her Head of House, merely nodded.

"That's our cue, I think," said Sirius. "Always a pleasure, Lily."

Lily nodded, relieved that they seemed to remain friends, even after he had kicked her family out of 12 Grimmauld Place. "Likewise, Sirius. Take care." She turned to Snape, unsure what to say.

Snape beat her to it, bowing slightly. "Missus Potter," he intoned.

"Professor," she finally replied.

The two wizards turned and left Longbottom Hall, the Heiress Parkinson walking stiffly between them. Snape did not put his wand away until they had crossed the wards, sure that Lily would figure out what they had done before they could escape.

Sirius was not worried, though he probably should have been. What occupied his thoughts was the scene he had found in the upstairs hallway. Had the boys been in the process of letting Pansy go on their own? If so, what did that mean?

And what would Harry think?

oOoOoOoOo

The sun had already set by the time Amelia Bones returned to Potter Manor that evening. It had been one of the busiest Tuesdays she could remember.

When she walked into the kitchen, she found Colonel Ramsay sitting at the table, reading what appeared to be some sort of booklet. She could not read the text on the thick red cover, only the large "SECRET" label.

He looked up as she entered, and smiled at her. "Long day, Amelia?"

Her official robes were already open, revealing the jeans and blouse she wore underneath. She shrugged off the heavy garment, and draped it over one of the empty chairs, before taking a seat across from the Colonel.

She couldn't help but smile back at him - he was an unexpected sight, but a welcome one.

"You have no idea," she said, tiredly.

A house elf popped in, setting a bottle of beer next to Ramsay. Before she could ask for anything, Amelia saw a glass of red wine next to her place. Taking a sip, she found that it was her preferred vintage.

Ramsay raised his beer in salute, before taking a drink. "It'd be easy to get used to that," he mused.

Amelia chuckled. "I grew up with elves as part of the family, and they still surprise me."

"Surprises can be good," Ramsay agreed. "Like dinner, for example?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, before she realized. "Oh, Mark, it's Tuesday!"

He laughed at her response. "Yes, well, I would have missed our dinner date if you hadn't. Seems that someone got it in their heads to send obliviators to deal with my CO and I."

"You're on the list, though," Amelia said, referring to the list of muggle government officials who could know about magic.

"Yup," he agreed, taking another drink. "And so is General Warren, seeing as he is a squib and all."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Amelia muttered. She should have expected something like that from Fudge, but even this was going too far.

Ramsay chuckled again. "Saying that a lot these days, Amelia?"

"Only since I met Harry Potter," she replied, archly.

"Oh, I know that feeling," he laughed.

Amelia looked around the kitchen, and gestured with her glass of wine. "Speaking of the esteemed Lord Potter, any chance you know where he is?"

Ramsay nodded toward the back window. Amelia leaned over, and saw Harry Potter out on the patio, having dinner with her niece. Three candles gave them all the light they needed, as they enjoyed the cool summer evening.

"He wanted to do something nice for Susan," Ramsay said. "Since they can't exactly go out on a date, I suggested dinner in. Once I explained to Dobby, he took care of everything."

Amelia nodded in approval. Looking at the Colonel, she raised her glass. He raised his beer in turn.

"Well done, Mark. That was a brilliant idea," she said.

"Thank you, Amelia," he replied. "I confess, it wasn't my first plan."

"Oh?"

"Well, you see… hell with it. Dobby?"

Dobby appeared with a pop. "Yes, sir?"

"Phase Two, please."

The elf grinned, and nodded vigorously. Just before he popped away, he looked over at Amelia, and for the briefest instant, she was almost certain that she had seen the elf wink at her.

She did not have time to think about that, however. With another pop, two covered trays appeared on the table, along with place settings. Candles appeared in the center of the table, and lit themselves.

Amelia chuckled as the lights in the kitchen seemed to dim themselves.

"We seem to have been cheated out of our dinner, Amelia," Ramsay said, quietly. "If I can't take you out to dinner, at least I can bring dinner to you."

"Inspired, Mark," she said, genuinely. Again, she saluted him with her glass.

As they took the covers off of their plates, and savored the dinner they found underneath, she smirked at her date.

"So," she began. "Obliviators, eh?"

"Yep," he replied, grinning. "I particularly enjoyed breaking a chair across one of their backs."

"Oh, now this I need to hear," Amelia said, grinning right back at him.

A/N: The opening flashback takes place immediately following the Order meeting in Chapter Six. Snape and Sirius will never be the best of friends, but there's a part of Snape that grudgingly respects how willing Sirius is to be sneaky when it comes to helping his godson. He's gone out on a limb before to protect his snakes, and understands the impulse, as it were. Snape, as with many others, often forgets that Sirius grew up in a very, very Slytherin household. Even having been sorted into Gryffindor, those lessons don't fade, however much Sirius may wish they would.

As much time as we've spent over the summer, we're now only a few chapters away from the train ride and the start of Sixth year - a very different Sixth year, as compared to what pretty much everyone involved might expect. Secrets revealed, Sleeves removed, Snitches caught, and so on. Should be exciting.

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