The dog trots freely in the street

and sees reality

and the things he sees

are bigger than himself

and the things he sees

are his reality

(“Dog,” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti)

Bridge to Nowhere

Strangers crowded the house that night, cloaked in fabric that hid them from intruding eyes. Bodies bumped into one another, hard elbows against the soft flesh of an arm or stomach. Chairs had been pushed to the walls carelessly, forcing the visitors to stand as they shifted from foot to foot. No one would be comfortable when the Dark Lord spoke, even the ones who had successfully completed their assignments.

Severus hated these nights when wizards near and far came to show their servitude. It seemed disgraceful that he had to stand next to them as if they were his equals, as if everything he had achieved was meaningless. He felt claustrophobic and confined, his heavy travelling cloak sweltering with the combined heat of bodies and the fireplace pressing against his skin. Cool sweat trickled down his neck from his hairline, disappearing past the collar of his shirt and robes.

His muscles ached and each limb felt weighed down with an invisible pressure. Severus had to blink to keep his eyes focused. He hadn’t slept in days and the effects were finally showing. It was a horrible time for his body to revolt; he couldn’t imagine what would happen if he fell asleep in the presence of the Dark Lord. He would most likely be killed. The idea was hilarious in a grotesque way. It suited him perfectly.

Low murmurs filled the room and candlelight cast the faces of strangers in ghastly shadows. Even to Severus, who had attended meetings before, felt the room possessed a sinister quality. The fright of his first time still resonated within him, and he concentrated on stabilising his facial expressions and, most importantly, his body language. He had discovered that the human form told far more secrets than anyone under a truth serum.

Closing his eyes, he took a silent, deep breath, relaxing his arms and shoulders further. He could not appear tense or surely his Lord would become curious. He had been successful in his assignment. Strategically, it had been a great victory for the dark side. However, over thirty people had died because of him. He quickly suppressed the thought.

A hush came over the room and Severus knew the Dark Lord had entered. Without moving, he abruptly was one of the closest people to his Lord. Many took a step back without even noticing. The Dark Lord stood in the centre of the room, dressed in common emerald robes, his eyes emotionless. The thin line of his mouth was firm and Severus turned his eyes downward once his Lord looked at him.

“Gibbon,” Voldemort said suddenly, turning his head to look at the man. “Update me on your findings in the Ministry.”

Gibbon was visibly nervous. “My Lord, I’m quite certain that Arthur Weasley and Caradoc Dearborn are members of the Order. Weasley is under the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office and Dearborn is a known Auror.”

“But how do you know?” Voldemort asked, his stare intense. “We must be very vigilant during our next attacks. Severus’s brewing did wonders for us, but it was entirely elementary. It would be unwise to continue killing people at random. We need to direct our powers at the Order now.”

Gibbon nodded grimly. “I have seen both Weasley and Dearborn with my own eyes during attacks. Dearborn wounded Purfuss only last week during the east-side assault.”

Voldemort watched Gibbon for a brief moment. “Very well. Speak with me and Augustus after the meeting.”

Bowing, Gibbon said, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Shifting his eyes to the crowd, Voldemort said, “I see that we have more people than usual here.” There was a low hum of chuckles. “It makes me wonder why most of you don’t show up every time. Are you afraid?”

Silence answered. Severus could hear the nervous twitching of the people around him. He smirked and straightened his back. He had no reason to hide.

“We are in the middle of a revolution, and I will not accept cowards in my faction. I will not tolerate anything less than complete devotion to our mission.”

Severus and the other constant members looked around with disgust. They were horribly against strangers. It was for good reason – the threat of spies among new comers was high, and they had to be extra cautious. Secretly, he marvelled at the irony of the situation. He treated people like shite when he was the actual spy.

Irony, forsooth! Guard yourself, Engineer!

Gritting his teeth, he willed his thoughts back to his Lord, quelling such things as spies and irony from his mind. He could not afford to drop his guard during the meeting.

“The stakes have risen since the imprisonment of Igor Karkaroff,” Voldemort said softly, a challenge within his expression as he looked around the room. “One must take risks when altering an entire social system.” A small smile crept into his features. “Leave now if you know you cannot risk your freedom. I’m sure one of my loyal followers will be happy to show you the way.”

A few laughed. It was a disgusting joke. Before the meeting Severus and the others had been advised to kill anyone who tried to flee. He felt his stomach churn at the thought.

“Rosier, Wilkes, what’s your progress?” Voldemort asked, his voice brittle.

Both men spoke at the same time. Rosier glared down at Wilkes. “My Lord, our progress at invading the Department of Mysteries is very great.”

Severus rolled his eyes as Rosier attempted to speak well. Why try to fool the Dark Lord when you know you will fail miserably? He felt nauseated as he thought to ask himself the same question.

“Details, Rosier,” Voldemort answered, his eyes hardening. “How will I know what you are up to if you do not give me details? Don’t waste my time.”

A crippling expression came over Rosier’s face. “I – I apologise, my Lord – I –”

“Get on with it!” Voldemort’s eyes darkened.

Rosier took a deep breath. “We have got many contacts in the Ministry, people who really believe us. I’m sure we can fool them to gain access.”

“It’s not enough! You cannot expect to just walk into the Department of Mysteries!” Voldemort snarled, his red eyes gleaming. “I will not tolerate stupidity!”

Trembling, Rosier said, “Yes, my Lord. I’m –”

“There will be consequences,” Voldemort said, his voice suddenly soft, “if you haven’t made any progress by the next meeting.”

Severus glanced at the people around him. Everyone was obviously squirming. Smirking, he took comfort in their fear. It made him feel safe to know that others suddenly doubted their decision of attending the meeting. Oh, they had no idea how much trouble they were in. He wanted to laugh gleefully and sob hysterically simultaneously. The urge made him feel schizophrenic.

Once the meeting was over, Severus stood with Lucius and Gibbon, sipping on centuries old elf wine. He could taste his unworthiness in the amber liquid, and it tickled his ego to know that he was consuming something so aristocratic. Even with all the horrors, it still astonished Severus how much he had achieved because of the Dark Lord.

“I bet you Wilkes thinks he’s clear because our Lord only spoke to Rosier,” Gibbon said, snorting. “If I were him I’d sleep with one eye open. Rosier’s not the one to take things lightly.”

Lucius nodded. “I’m not criticizing our Lord’s decision, but he gave them such an important task. One has to wonder if he even expects them to be successful.”

“Well, they are incredibly idiotic,” Severus added, and the men chuckled. “I’m surprised they aren’t dead yet.”

“Easy, Snape, or you just might be next,” Gibbon said.

Severus shrugged. “I was successful – I can’t say the same for you.” He watched Gibbon’s face darken with anger.

“Let’s not fight,” Lucius said, yawning. “It’s too elementary, Severus.”

Gibbon snickered and Severus glared at him.

“Gibbon,” Rosier said, his voice strained, “our Lord wants to see you.”

Curious, Severus observed how a vein in Rosier’s temple throbbed. The man was horribly red, as if uncontrollable anger raged inside of him. Severus fingered his wand in preparation.

Rosier looked at Lucius, then Severus. “Can you believe what happened back there? Wilkes just stood there and said nothing!”

“That’s what happens when you put yourself out there, Evan,” Lucius said calmly. He raised a ringed finger in the air. “One must think before he speaks.”

“What could I have done?” Rosier said through gritted teeth. “Our Lord wanted an answer!”

Smirking, Severus said, “Maybe you should work on your delivery.”

“Shut the fuck up, Snape! Just because you know how to mix shite together doesn’t mean you have authority over me!” Rosier’s chest was beating up and down quickly.

“Boys, please,” Lucius said lazily, boredom clear in his voice. “Why don’t we go up to my study and have a nice drink.” He turned to Rosier. “I bet I could find something that suits your tastes.”

Rosier sneered. “Like I’d want to spend time with him.” He motioned with his head to Severus.

Rolling his eyes, Severus said, “You’ll be happy to know that I can’t stay long. A dirty lab and a warm bed are waiting for me.”

Lucius blinked at him. “Oh, yes. You must be exhausted. How many hours did it take you to brew that Delphinium concoction?”

“Three days,” Severus answered, then shrugged. “I have no regrets.”

“Of course you don’t,” Rosier said, his voice sardonic.

.::.

He left without drawing attention to himself and Apparated to a dingy part of London. The stench of sewage greeted him and his nostrils flared in disgust. He had been passing on information to Dumbledore for two months, and the location of their meetings still nauseated him. He supposed it amused Dumbledore to know that if anyone had been following Severus they’d wonder why he was so desperate to buy whores after each meeting.

An elder lady opened the door to the building once he stepped up the cobbled walkway. Even in the dark he could make out the grime and immorality of the stains on the ground, and he quickly averted his eyes. The woman’s face sagged with wrinkles and curiosity, her spindle fingers capped with diamond rings and red-painted nails. Her gray hair was crazed with knots and fell in wisps around her face.

She stared at him knowingly and directed him up the stairs to the only room not occupied with the prostitutes that lived there and their visiting customers. It was a strange thing to sit, discussing the war with Dumbledore, as moans of passion filtered through the cracked walls and worn wallpaper.

Tonight, Severus was the first one to arrive and he sat down at a rickety table. It was then that he allowed his body to tremble with fear. A wave of unsettling relief flooded into him, but it did nothing to cure his nerves. That pain of unwanted responsibility still lingered in the cracks of his brain, always just on the horizon of his consciousness. A quiet hysteria surfaced once again and he felt the sting of tears in his eye ducts.

Sniffing, he closed his eyes and willed the moisture away, and blamed it on his exhaustion. The beginning of delirium clouded his vision and he was slightly unprepared for the sudden appearance of Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took one look at him, then sighed. “Your potion was extremely effective,” he said as he sat down across from Severus. He took off his silver travelling hat and laid it on the table.

“Of course it was,” Severus snapped, anger flooding his voice. “But you took none of my suggestions seriously! You could have saved at least half of those people, but –”

“But what?” Dumbledore said calmly, peering at him over his half-moon glasses. “We need to enforce the appearance that you are the best when it comes to sneaky brewing and murdering without any qualms.”

Severus shook his head. “And,” he said, the anger within building, “you still haven’t placed Lily into hiding!”

“Lily, James, and their unborn child, you mean,” Dumbledore said and shrugged. “Lily wants to have her baby with family and friends, not alone. It’s a boy, you know. They are naming him Harry.”

Turning away, Severus bit the inside of his cheek and ignored the blinding pain from the thought of Lily pregnant, somewhere in the world. He liked to imagine that the past between them had never happened. It was hard when he knew the Dark Lord was plotting to kill her and – it.

After a long moment he said, “I know there’s a spy, I just know it.” Severus sighed. “But he’s tricky and smart enough not to let anyone know who the spy is.”

Dumbledore nodded sombrely in agreement. “Yes, we believe there’s a spy as well. It’s about finding him now.”

Severus threw his hands up. “Then do something about it! Ask questions, plant false plans and if I hear them on my end, we’ll know who it is! Use a truth serum – torture, anything!”

Chuckling, Dumbledore said, “Always one for the dramatics, Severus.” He paused to watch the sneer develop across his face. “But all in good time. You needn’t both yourself with what happens on my side. Just concentrate on not getting yourself killed on your side.”

Severus grimaced. “He spoke of attacks against Arthur Weasley and Caradoc Dearborn tonight. I would expect them in the next week or so. Gibbon is very anxious to complete his assignment.”

“Do you know where it will happen?”

Shaking his head, he responded, “No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were at the Ministry, just to shake things up.”

Dumbledore smiled sadly, the wrinkles on his face deepening. “Fear is contagious. I’ll be sure to tell Arthur and Caradoc to be on the lookout.”

Severus was astonished. “That’s it? You’re not going to hide them or something?”

“Dear boy, I thought you were smarter than that. If I hid them surely Tom would become suspicious. And, the Order would lose two beneficial members.”

“Don’t talk down to me like that! I am putting myself in danger and I do not deserve your ‘dear boy’ shite!”

Dumbledore was silent. After a pause he said, “You put yourself in danger the moment you were branded with that mark.”

Air whistled through Severus’ nose as he glared at Dumbledore. He gulped thickly and said, “There’s more talk about a break-in at the Department of Mysteries, though I doubt it will ever happen. Rosier and Wilkes will be killed before they succeed.”

Leaning forward, Dumbledore placed his hands on the table. A strange look of desperation was on the face. “Why do you say that?”

Severus shrugged. “Because Rosier and Wilkes are complete idiots. Everyone knows that the Dark Lord just wants to get rid of them.”

“How do you suppose Tom will do it?”

“I dunno,” Severus said, rolling his eyes, “probably set them up – tell them there’ll be back up when they try to get into the Ministry. He knows they would rather die than be captured.”

“Hm,” Dumbledore said in thought, tapping a long finger against his chin. “Are you positive they feel that way?”

“About being captured? Sure! We’ve heard stories about Karkaroff in Azkaban. I would rather die than go there; we all would.”

“Okay, are we done here?” Dumbledore asked as he stood. He grabbed his hat and placed it on his head.

Severus rolled his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we are.” He stood, trying to meet the old man’s height. Dumbledore still had quite a few inches on him. It was disconcerting.

“Oh,” Dumbledore said, his hand already on the doorknob, “I’m getting someone else to meet with you. Expect someone in the near future.”

Severus’ face crumbled. “What? Who? What if they can’t keep a secret?” But Dumbledore closed the door without answering and the sound of Apparition reverberated through the room.

.::.

“No, the television isn’t talking to you. It can’t speak.”

Sirius turned the knob once more, clicking it over to the next channel. Confusion and curiosity formed across his features as he watched an advertisement for soap. “But, wait – how do they get those little people behind the screen? How does this box have so many different voices?”

Lily covered her mouth to muffle a laugh. “No, the television doesn’t have the voices. It receives it.”

“What? That makes no sense. How does it receive little people and different voices without magic?”

“By signals – small messages that float in the air and there’s a built-in receiver in the back of the television.”

“Maybe if I could look inside the box . . . break it open to see?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” James said, walking into the room with a refilled drink. “I just got that thing for Lily’s birthday.” He stopped next to Lily and rubbed her shoulder with his free hand.

“Yeah,” she responded, “it’s not like you can just wave a wand to fix a television.”

Remus scooted over on the sofa for Sirius, and he watched in similar amazement as the “programme” came back on. It was some sort of a Muggle game with teams that were made up by family members. It was as if the people were tiny, animated puppets. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of messages in the air. How small were they? If Remus couldn’t see them then the messages must’ve been extremely small. How extraordinary.

“Do you want more?” Lily asked him, motioning to the pitcher of cinnamon juice on the table.

He smiled at her and looked at her stomach. “No. When is the baby due again?”

“July,” she responded, rubbing her stomach without thinking. “The Mediwitch says Harry is developing fine.”

“Are you still thinking about having him at the house?”

James raised his head and looked at Lily expectantly.

“Well,” she said, glancing at James, “at first I wanted to, but this bloke here thinks it’s too dangerous.” She laughed and pushed at James’ shoulder. In return, he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm.

“I just don’t want anything to go wrong. I know nothing about babies and them – coming out,” James said with a shrug.

Remus nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for a birth either.”

Lily snorted. “You wouldn’t be responsible. I read that if the mother just relaxes and breathes, endorphins are supposed to be released. I just can’t get in the way of my body’s work.” She laughed. “Neither can you, okay?”

James rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if I can just sit there and watch you scream in pain.”

“I’m not going to scream in pain!” Lily crossed her arms and rested them against the bump of her stomach.

“Oi, there’s no way you’re not going to scream,” Sirius said, pointing his butterbeer at her. “Every bird screams.” He rested the bottle between his thighs and held out his hands in an oval shape. “There’s a fucking head coming out of you. I’d scream.”

“Well, that’s because you’re a pansy,” Lily said, her voice high with humour.

Sirius waved her off. “I’ll mention that while you’re pushing a Quaffle outta your cunt.”

“Like I’ll allow you to be in the room! No way are you going to see that!” Lily insisted.

Shrugging, Sirius took a long sip of his drink and said, “It’s natural, Lily. I doubt any of us would mind – unless you got a jungle down there.”

“She doesn’t!” James said with a grimace.

Lily laughed as she pulled her hair back with a hand. “It’s so hot in here. But anyway, I had no idea you had such an interest in births, Sirius.”

“It’s winter out there, Lils. Do you want me to cast a cooling charm?” James asked, his fingers slipping around his wand in his pocket.

“No, I get too cold with it,” Lily said, then wiggled her feet. “Could you boys make room for me on the sofa? My feet are beginning to swell.”

Remus got to his feet and motioned for her to sit in his spot. “I want something stronger. You can have my seat.”

Her eyes twinkled as she sat down. “Oh, the cushion is all warm.”

“Hey, could you get me another one?” Sirius asked him. Nodding, Remus turned to walk to the kitchen but Sirius grabbed his arm. “And throw this away for me?” He smiled cheekily up at Remus.

“I’m not your fucking house elf,” Remus said with a smile. He snatched the bottle out of Sirius’ hand and stomped to the kitchen. James followed him.

In the kitchen, Remus took out two bottles of butterbeer and drank half of each consecutively. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then smeared the extra stickiness on his shirt. James handed him the bottle of liquor and he filled each drink to the top with whiskey. Delicious.

Without speaking, James Charmed each bottle to shake itself. They watched as the bottles rocked in the air.

“So,” James said conversationally, his wand directing one of the bottles to Remus’ hand, “have you heard from Wormtail lately?”

Remus drank deeply from his bottle. “No, I haven’t,” he answered, coughing. He peered at James as he swallowed, trying to rid his throat of the burning. “Have you?”

“Not at all, that’s why I asked you. I thought maybe he’s been busy or something.”

Remus shrugged. “With what? Unless Dumbledore told him something that we don’t know about.”

“Right, right.” James rubbed his forehead in thought. “I just – have a bad feeling, you know?”

Staring down at the tile, Remus blinked away the dread from his stomach. He shook his head and took another swig of his drink. “I know how you feel. It’s not like Wormtail to be secretive.”

“Maybe we should just ask him. What do you think?” James looked at him hopefully.

I don’t have the answers, Remus wanted to say to him. It was true – he was unnerved by the way James looked at him, as if he thought Remus could help the situation. Remus was just as baffled by Peter’s peculiarity as anyone else. It wasn’t as if he were closer to Peter.

“Maybe we should ask Dumbledore about it,” he offered. “At least then the man can say yes or no. Give us an idea on where to start. You never know, maybe Wormtail is just going through a phase.”

“During a time like this, though?” James clutched at the back of his head. “It’s just – no way he could betray us, right?”

Remus flinched at the word. Betrayal was like a disease. Everyone hated to hear it. He shook his head in uncertainty, looking at James with his hands splayed out in front of him.

Sighing, James said, “I know what you mean. I’ll just ask Dumbledore.” He slapped Remus on the shoulder. “Let’s get back in there before Sirius destroys that tella-visitor thing or worse, gets a peek at my wife’s privates.”

Remus laughed openly and he felt that nauseating pressure of dread lighten in his stomach. It was still there – the feeling of unrest, though it was easier to ignore it.

“What? I’ve read about pregnancies, Lily,” Sirius said as they walked back into the living room. “I think you are being sexist for thinking men don’t read books about giving birth!”

Lily snorted and wiggled her finger at him. “It’s nothing about your sex, Sirius.” She struggled to continue as her shoulders trembled with laughter. “You just – don’t strike – me as the type.”

“What’s the type, then?” Sirius asked, crossing his arms.

“Give it up, Padfoot,” James said. “We all know you just want to see my wife naked.”

Sirius huffed. “I have no desire to see pregnant birds. I’m just trying to make a point here.”

Lily laughed loudly and slapped her thigh. “I don’t blame you. I’m thinking about placing a bag over my head every time I have to get undressed.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Lils,” James said, leaning over the back of the sofa to wrap his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against her hair. “I still think you’re beautiful.”

Snorting, Lily patted his arm and said, “Don’t think you are going to get me to change my mind that easily. I can see straight through your little compliments.”

Sirius looked at them with interest. “What’s the problem?”

“None of your business,” Lily said, but James interrupted her.

“She doesn’t think we should – continue shagging. Thinks it’s gonna hurt little Harry.”

Lily looked outraged. “James! Why did you tell them that? It’s private!” A deep blush had bloomed across her cheeks.

“What?” James answered innocently. “Maybe if I get them on my side, you’ll succumb to pressure.” He smiled cheekily down at her. She gasped and slapped him playfully against the face.

Remus looked away politely as they kissed and he caught Sirius’ eye. Grinning, Sirius rolled his eyes and pointed to the fags in his packet. “Why don’t we give them some privacy?”

“Brilliant idea,” he said, pushing himself up from the sofa. He waved James and Lily off as they looked at him. “Don’t mind us. We’re going out for a smoke.”

“It’s freezing out. Be sure to cast a warming charm,” Lily said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said as he held open the backdoor for Remus. He rested his hand on Remus’ back, and Remus shivered slightly from the contact. White huffs came from their mouths as they stood on the wooden porch, rubbing their hands together inside their coats. A light sheet of snow fell silently. Warmth surrounded them as Sirius cast the charm without words. It was almost as if he didn’t want to break the calm silence.

The paper-wrapped fag felt oddly uncomfortable between Remus’ cold fingers, and he held it between his teeth as Sirius lit it with his wand. The wave of nicotine smoke rushed through his lungs and his eyelids fluttered slightly at the feeling. He leaned back and rested against the side of the house, watching as Sirius shuffled his feet and stretched his arms.

The hint of arousal coursed through him as he spotted the soft skin of Sirius’ stomach exposed by his raised arms. Blinking, he shook his head and looked away awkwardly. It was undeniable that Sirius was extremely attractive, but Remus couldn’t allow himself to focus on it like he did in the past. During school, Sirius had been the only one he had eyes for, but after catching Sirius’ balls deep in far too many girls he knew it would never work out.

Was he sad about it? Sure – it had been hard to ignore his disappointment, but then the war happened and things changed. God, he was scared out of his mind. Lily pregnant – James acting accordingly, like they had been married for decades, not just months. They all were pretending to be so much older – more experienced than what their ages called for. Sometimes Remus wished he could find a way to vocalise his fear to Sirius.

“I’m scared,” he said quietly, his face turned downward so he wouldn’t have to see Sirius’ reaction. After a moment of motionless silence, Sirius slowly wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders. It was a strange and uncomfortable position, and it did nothing but heighten his anxiety. He understood that Sirius was trying to help him but he desperately wished he wouldn’t.

“Me too,” Sirius breathed, then released Remus and took a step back.

Ash from his fag fell onto his trousers and he hastily tried to wipe it away. The grey smeared against the jean material and he licked his fingers, trying to rub it out. Sirius watched with heavily lidded eyes, his long eyelashes contrasting against his pale skin. They stared at each other for a long moment, Sirius’ expression saddened. Remus cocked his head to the side, watching how the confidence seemed to drain from Sirius right before his eyes.

Sirius shifted and turned his head to the left. Something caught his eye and his back straightened, his hand going for his wand. Fear coiled within Remus’ stomach, and he swerved around, squinting through the falling white to see.

At first, it seemed like a floating cloak was moving toward them, the silvery material glinting strangely in the darkness. Sirius stepped to the door to get James, but Remus held him back, not wanting to make their presence known. His fingers curled around Sirius’ wool jumper as he pointed his wand at the cloak. He felt Sirius’ heart pounding under his fingers.

Through the shadows, a figure seemed to materialize, his flowing white beard swaying from side to side with each step. A long, pointed hat curved over and lay limp against the side of his head. Half-moon glasses, pointed boots – a wave of relief flooded Remus and he took a shuddering breath to calm himself.

Sirius thudded down the steps. “Professor Dumbledore,” he whispered harshly, “what are you doing here?”

Dumbledore held up his hand. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, but I have something urgent to tell James.”

Oh, God, it’s about Peter, Remus thought, his fingers trembling around the cold wood of his wand. Peter was most likely dead. Oh God.

Dumbledore looked at Remus as if he knew what he was thinking and shook his head, his eyes gleaming in a strange way that made Remus shuffle his feet.

“But first, I need to talk with Remus – alone.” He looked expectantly at Sirius and waited until the young man understood.

Sirius snarled. “What can you possibly say to Remus that you can’t tell me?”

“Please,” Dumbledore said, stepping up to the porch. “Go and tell James and Lily I’m here. Leave us be.”

Remus wrapped his arms around himself. His heart thumped madly in his chest. Was it about Peter? More talk about the werewolf packs up in Cornwall?

Glaring, Sirius took one more look at Remus, then turned and went back into the house, the screen door slapping against the house with his departure.

Smiling sadly, Dumbledore moved closer to Remus. “Ah,” he said, wrinkling his nose, “a warming charm.” His white fingers searched through his pockets. “Grape drop, Remus? I’ve now found three different flavours – lemon, grape, and cherry. However, cherry is my least favourite. It reminds me of medicine.”

Remus shook his head and looked down at his feet, stretching his legs as he leaned back on his heels. “So, what did you need to talk to me about?” he asked quite awkwardly, trying to ignore the pressing anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you think about Severus Snape often?”

The question surprised Remus, and he looked up in confusion. Did he? – well, sometimes – during the late hours of night, lying in a lonely bed, thinking about his past. He thought about all of the people he knew during school who had become Death Eaters. It frightened and exhilarated him to know that at one point he’d have to face them in battle, face his childhood acquaintances.

He wondered if taking the mark had changed Snape. Physically, mentally – sexually. It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help the thoughts he sometimes had. Thoughts that he had no right to have – images and feelings that embarrassed him, even though it was his own little secret.

He realised that Dumbledore was watching him closely, and he smiled at the elder man with pressed lips. “Of course I do – with him being a Death Eater now. I think about all of them.”

Nodding, Dumbledore stepped even closer, his gaze even. “I’m about to tell you something that you must promise to never tell anyone else – even James and Sirius. Do you give me your word?”

Remus sucked in a shuddering breath as he felt his head spin with the strain of the situation. Was Snape dead? He couldn’t think about it. Giving a swift nod, Remus said, “Of course. I give you my word to tell no one.”

“Good,” Dumbledore said as he raised his wand. For a split moment Remus thought he was about to Obliviate him, but instead he cast a Silencing charm. The air seemed to stiffen around them. “Severus is a spy for us.”

Blinking, Remus struggled to comprehend what Dumbledore said. Wait – he was a spy for their side? “But –,” Remus said without thinking, “he took the Dark Mark. How is that possible?”

“It’s a long story. I won’t go into details now – I’ll allow Severus to tell you himself, if he ever feels the need to.”

Remus straightened his back. “Is he here now?”

“Of course not,” Dumbledore said, slight humour in his voice. “Why? Would that bother you?”

Remus shrugged. “I – don’t know. Maybe – maybe not. It would take me some time to accept him switching sides.” He paused to think, his eyes shifting from side to side. “Why did you tell me?”

“Ah, so we get to the pinnacle of this conversation.” Dumbledore stared at Remus, it seemed, to size him up. “I want you to replace me as the only person who Severus contacts. You will meet with him, he will tell you what he has discovered, then you will report back to me – and only me.”

“But – why me?” Remus breathed.

Dumbledore waved his hand in the air. “Because you have a level head about you. I feel I can trust you to not let your biases get in the way of your duty.”

Laughing sharply, Remus asked, “How do you know Snape will do the same? He absolutely hates me!”

“I doubt Severus will deny anyone who is trying to help him during such a horrific time in his life. You must remember: he made a grave mistake and he knows it.”

Remus swallowed thickly. “I’m not going to pretend that your request doesn’t shock me. I’m not completely comfortable with meeting with a Death Eater, you know.”

Dumbledore stared at him. “Even if Severus is a Death Eater, he is still human. We are all still human, you must remember.”

Something about the idea of Death Eaters being human made Remus shift and he broke his eye contact from Dumbledore, looking down at the wooden porch instead. He buried his hands into his pockets and tried to hide his nervousness.

“Do you accept?”

“What about Greyback and the packs in Cornwall?”

“They can wait,” Dumbledore replied calmly.

Remus looked away, watching as the snow fell against the outer edges of the porch, the white layer untouched by footprints. He exhaled deeply. “All right. I’ll do it.”

Dumbledore smiled. “You must never tell anyone about Severus.”

“I know.” Remus glanced back at Dumbledore. “How – where am I supposed to meet him?”

Raising a hand, Dumbledore rummaged through his robes. He handed Remus a piece of parchment. “Memorise it, then burn it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes – I do.”

“Fantastic, now let’s not keep James waiting any longer. There is business to address!”

Remus thought he would vomit.

AN: I wrote this in a bit of a rush, and I vaguely remember spotting some grammar errors after I submitted it. So, all mistakes are fully mine and I apologize in advance for later chapters.