"You know," Pansy said, "it's not polite to read other people's mail." She folded the letter and put it into her pocket.

"Polite?" Draco asked. "Polite? Is that the best you can do, Pansy?"

She sighed. Tried to remind herself of what Snape had told her- numerous times- about watching her language around the students. Not that he did- but he was Severus Snape, and no one was going to tell him that he couldn't-

"Fuck you, Draco," she said, before turning a glare on the students. "You lot! Breakfast. Go!"

They went.

Draco sighed and sat back down. "Pansy-"

"So you're back."

"You don't sound pleased."

"Should I be? You've been here for two years, since graduation, and you've hardly spoken three words to me," Pansy said. "Last time I checked, you were still ticked off at me for coming to them over Christmas that year."

Draco shook his head. "You didn't go to them, Pansy. You went to Snape. That, I can understand."

"You have a funny way of showing it," she snapped.

"What was I supposed to do? I had enough trouble trying to explain to my father why I stayed at all, and if I'd still been speaking to you... I'm sorry."

"You never were willing to risk your neck, were you?" Pansy asked. "Oh, you came back and you took that job- but you wouldn't dedicate yourself the way the rest of us did. You wouldn't take the Veritaserum when it was just something they were toying with, not something they required. And for all that you were here, playing at being Snape's assistant, you never really took a side."

"You of all people should understand. I was walking a bloody tightrope, Pansy, and I did the best that I could. But there was no way to get free of my father- none."

"You seem to have managed that just fine," Pansy said.

Draco sneered at her. "Don't you pay attention to the rumors floating around this place? My father is dead, Pansy. Snape killed him."

Pansy winced, unsure what to say. Should she pretend sympathy? She had known Lucius Malfoy, and she remembered the things that Snape had told her, the night they lost Millicent.

"If it's a choice between Lucius and Snape, I always would have chosen Snape," she said at last, deciding the truth was best.

"Of course you would have," Draco replied. "You love the old bastard."

Pansy gasped. "What?"

"Not like that, stupid- but you love him. The way I wanted to love my father, and finally realized that I never could. Because my father loved three things- Voldemort, power, and maybe my mother. Maybe. There was no room there for me."

"You can love someone even if they don't love you back, Draco," she said.

He shook his head. "No, you can't. Not forever. Not for a lifetime. You can get by on self-delusion for a while, but it doesn't last. One day you see the truth, and there's no going back." He paused. "I know I didn't do a good job of showing it, but I was always glad you were here, on their side. I'd trust Snape with my life- and you. You belong here, Pansy."

"But do you?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Snape says I came for the truth, whatever that is. I'd like to pretend that I know a little more of what I'm doing than that, but he's right."

Pansy nodded, and slowly sat beside him, leaving a full cushion's worth of space between them. Snape's note crinkled in her pocket, and she tried to remind herself of what he'd said- Keep in mind that he has not yet tested true. And she did try- oh, how she tried. But Pansy had been lonely a very long time, and the only reason she had ever turned away from Draco was because she felt so much for him...

"Pansy." Draco leaned towards her. He reached out, caressed her cheek.

She turned away. "Don't, please. Not yet."

"Don't trust me, Pansy?"

She shook her head, turned away so he would not see her expression. "I can't. Not yet."

"Damn you, Snape," Draco whispered under his breath. "But you're right- so is he. Just give me a chance, alright?"

"I'll try," she said.

---

The parchment crinkled as Minerva unfolded it slowly.

"Careful," Snape said as he hovered over her shoulder.

She gave the letter a quick scan. "Alright," she said, and began to read.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

"They didn't, either," said Harry.

"Quiet, now," said Moody.

"I'll skip this next bit, as it's nothing we don't already know," said Minerva, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Go on, then," said Moody in a gruffly comforting sort of way.

"He's underlined 'imperative' twice," Minerva cut in.

"As I thought," Snape said.

At the same moment Hermione said, "I knew it!"

They shrugged and nodded to one another.

Minerva sighed. "The next person who interrupts me is going to spend the next hour as something really foul-"

"Like a condor?" asked Moody.

Minerva ignored this and returned to the letter.

"Mental," Ron cut in. "Morgana le Fey's just a story!"

"Actually," Snape said, "she was not. If you go back far enough, most wizards are descended from her."

"Of course," said Hermione. "She was Merlin's daughter, after all."

Ron was looking flabbergasted. "What?"

"You should really read more," Hermione said.

Minerva read on.

Minerva folded the letter, the sound seeming terribly loud in the silence that had fallen.

"That's it?" Harry said at last. "That's all there was?"

Minerva sighed. "Yes."

"What do you know that wasn't in there?" the young man asked.

"Only one thing," Minerva said. "I know what Dumbledore believed about your mother. He believed that it was quite possible she was the reincarnation of Morgana."

Harry was shaking his head. "That doesn't make any sense. I know from what I heard when the Dementors got near me a few years ago that Voldemort might have let my mum go if she hadn't been trying to protect me. And if he was the kind of enemy of anyone connected to my family that Dumbledore was implying-" He shook his head.

"But it does make sense, of a sort," Minerva said. She hesitated to tell him her line of reason, but Snape did not.

"It's possible he thought he could turn her," Snape said. "He would never destroy any tool until he'd gotten the full use of it. And your mother must have looked very appealing to him, Potter. She was..." He sighed. "Rather otherworldly for a Muggle-born."

"She was quite talented, too," Minerva said. "Some things just came so effortlessly to her-"

"Divination," Sirius spoke up. "We used to make fun of her for it, of course, Divination being what it is, but we all knew she was a true Seer."

"Exactly," Minerva said. "And all the powers legend and history tell us Morgana herself possessed- Lily was good at those things. Exceptional."

"Dreadful at flying, though," said Sirius. "I'm guessing Quidditch wasn't one of Morgana's strengths."

Moody was shaking his head. "Can't say as I'm surprised, really. Dumbledore kept his own confidence, didn't he?"

"On a few too many things," Minerva said. "Suppose he always thought he'd have time to tell us."

"Outsmarted himself there, then," said Sirius. "Damnit all. And none of you know anything else?"

"Nope," said Moody. "Probably luck we know that much, eh?"

Minerva nodded. Moody was probably right, but just once she had been hoping for a page full of easy answers.

She should have known better, of course. Dumbledore was never about easy answers. Had always wanted them to figure things out for themselves.

"Well," she said at last, "at least he's given us a few more pieces of the puzzle."

"So," Ron said. "What's next?"

"Veritaserum for young Mr. Malfoy, I think," Snape said. "If he is playing me false, I'd like to know it sooner rather than later."

"Back to the school then," Minerva said. "Do you want witnesses, Severus?"

"Under the circumstances, I think I had better, don't you?"

"Mm," she sighed. "Yes, probably."

---

Pansy and Draco were playing wizards chess in the Slytherin common room, not speaking, when Snape and Minerva walked in.

"Professor," Pansy said with a nod. "Checkmate."

Draco appeared startled. "What- oh, yeah." He watched his king being sliced in half, and shrugged. "Thanks for the game."

"It's time," Snape said. "Come on."

Draco nodded and stood to follow them.

"Pansy?" Snape asked. "It's your choice, of course..."

She nodded, and stood as well. "I'll go," she said. "One way or the other, I think I need to see this."

"Did you get my note?" Snape asked as they stepped out into the dungeon hall past the common room.

"After a fashion," she muttered.

"Ah," said Snape, catching the glare she threw at Draco. "Did he give you any trouble?"

"Define 'trouble'," Pansy muttered. Then, "No, not really, sir. Everything go alright this morning?"

"After a fashion," he said. "I'll tell you about it later."

Snape and Minerva had already had a bit of a discussion about where to do the testing. At last they had settled on the Great Hall, and called there everyone who had not yet submitted to Veritaserum.

When everyone had gathered, Minerva stepped up to the high table to address them. "First of all, I would like to thank all of you for coming. Knowing what you face here, it cannot have been an easy choice. You know why this is necessary- and I wish that it weren't, but it is, and so I hope you'll forgive us for this. Alright, Alastor," she said, with a nod to the old Auror.

He raised his wand, and all the doors slammed shut. They began to glow with a shimmering sort of light.

"The doors are now locked and spelled against opening to anyone. Please don't try to leave. We will be forced to assume the worst, and act accordingly." There was no sympathy in her voice now, only determination and a strength it seemed they could all feel.

"Firstly, to put everyone at ease..." She held out her hand, and Snape passed her the clear crystal vial, managing to hide his irritation. He had objected to this part of her plan, but she had known its necessity and, after a fashion, convinced him of it as well. Or at least, she had convinced him to keep his objections to himself.

She lifted a dropper from the bottle, and swallowed a measured three drops of the powerful truth potion.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall," she said, and her words had the ring of truth spoken freely. "I serve the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort is my enemy."

Snape nodded. "That's good enough," he said quietly.

But she shook her head. "Is there anything anyone would like to ask me now?"

"Could you try to lie, please, just so we know for sure it's Veritaserum?" asked Hermione.

Snape glared at her. "What?" he muttered under his breath.

Hermione wore a slightly apologetic sort of look. "Sorry. She told me to do that."

Snape nodded, but he still didn't look happy.

"Very well," Minerva said. "I am head of Raven- Ravencl- Oh, alright, Gryffindor!" She shuddered. "That was rather unpleasant."

Snape shrugged, unapologetic. "It's your own fault, you know."

"Oh, shut up," she muttered at him. Aloud she said, "Alright. Next, please?"

One by one, those who had returned and had not yet been tested came forward. The others watched as one by one they all tested true.

Moody shook his head in disbelief. "Not a one of 'em lying," he muttered, and his eyes were hard with suspicion as Draco Malfoy walked towards the stool at the front of the room.

Snape administered the Veritaserum, as he had to all the returning Slytherins. "State your name for the record."

"Draco Malfoy."

"Why are you here?" Snape asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I have a job here." But the Veritaserum forced a truer answer from him. "I don't know."

"Are you here to spy upon us?"

"No."

"Why, then? Why did you come here?"

"Because I'm tired," said Draco. "I'm tired of having my path chosen for me, with never a consideration given to what I want. This place," he went on, "it's never asked anything of me, really. And Dumbledore always used to tell us that we had to be true to ourselves, whatever that means. I laughed about that, but suddenly somehow, being true to myself meant coming back here. In spite of everything. Do you think I don't know how most of you feel about me? That I don't know some of you will never trust me, even after this? Do you think it was easy coming back to face that? Do you? Well, I'll tell you honestly, you haven't got a clue. But I'm here. I came back. I'm starting to wonder why."

Snape nodded slowly, and picked up a small bottle filled with a grass green solution. "The antidote," he said.

"I don't need that," Draco snapped in reply.

"If you wish to go about telling the absolute truth until it wears off on its own, be my guest," Snape replied. Then, because he could not stop himself, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind from the moment he saw Draco Malfoy at the door to the Slytherin common room.

His voice barely a whisper, Snape asked, "Do you know who killed your father?"

"Yes," Draco said, and reached for the bottle.

"Take the antidote, boy," Snape said, almost gently. "I am satisfied. Alastor? Minerva?"

Moody gave a jerky sort of nod. Minerva McGonagall's affirmative nod was more firm, and she smiled.

"Yes, I think we are all satisfied," she said.

Draco hesitated with the antidote in his hand. "Pansy?" he said. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Were you telling me the truth earlier?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Pansy smiled, a smile Draco returned as he took the antidote at last.

In the corner nearest the staff table, Sirius Black was scowling. "No spies?" he was muttering to himself. "None?"

"Don't trust it, do you?" asked Lupin.

"No, I don't."

"I wouldn't worry over it," Snape advised, taking stock of his bottles of Veritaserum and antidotes and packing them carefully away. "I'm certain they haven't forgotten us. They are simply up to something...else."

"It's obvious they knew about the truth potion," Minerva said. She sighed, bracing her foot against a chair. "Not that it means anything- we didn't make much secret of the fact we were doing it. And we don't dare hope we hurt them badly at Privet Drive."

"We accomplished what was most important there," Snape replied. "You know as well as I that they came for the same reason we did- Potter."

"I know, Severus. I hate to say that I would have felt better if we had discovered a traitor here-"

"But you would have. Yes, I understand. That, we could have taken action against. Now all we can do is wait for them to come to us."

"If we had a better grasp on things- Damnit, we don't have the time to be this scattered," she said, sounding furious with herself.

"You ask too much of yourself," Snape said.

"As usual," Sirius pointed out.

Snape nodded at him. "True. Very true." He looked to Minerva again. "So."

"Gather everyone," Minerva said. "Tell them... Tell them that it is time to say goodbye to a dear old friend."

He bowed, and started to turn away.

"The students, too?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. Anyone who wishes to be here... They deserve the chance."

"You aren't pulling any punches, are you? How it happened...?" Sirius trailed off.

"No, I'm not. But they have a right to the truth. I happen to believe that they have earned it, and it would be an insult to Dumbledore's memory to lie to them. They've chosen to side with us, and now they learn what it means. The good and the bad."

"And if, knowing all of that, they want to leave? Take their chances someplace else?" Moody growled.

She shrugged. "What would you have me do, Alastor? Force them to stay? I can't- I won't- do that."

He shook his head. "No. Not that. But some of them know too much."

Minerva swept her gaze around the grouping at the staff table; Moody, Sirius, Snape, Remus, with Hermione, Ron, Harry, Draco and Pansy hovering slightly in the background, as if they did not feel themselves fully a part of the discussion. "Just you lot," she said.

Snape nodded, and gestured at Pansy. "Go and see to the Slytherins, please."

"Yes, sir." Pansy headed for the doors, which Moody unwarded with a wave of his wand.

"Pansy," Draco called after her. "Hang on. I'll come with you."

"The rest of you lot," Moody told the others, "go on. Round up your housemates." He proceeded then to issue instructions to the rest of Minerva's circle. "Sirius, run to Hagrid's and get him- Lupin, find Trelawney. And you-" he jerked his scarred chin at Snape, "stay here. Don't let her out of your sight."

"I don't need a keeper, Alastor," Minerva said.

"Until the investiture, you're the weakest of us," Moody growled back. "Don't press me on this, Minerva. Snape-"

"Consider it done," Snape replied. "Where are you off to?"

"Owlery," Moody said. "Got a letter to send to Fudge. Not that he'll show his face, but he deserves to be invited."

"Waste of bloody time," Sirius said.

"Probably," Moody agreed, as they stepped out the doors, going their separate ways.

Minerva sank into her usual seat at the staff table. Snape stood at her shoulder, watching her carefully but not speaking. They remained that way as the Great Hall emptied out. Silence hung thickly in the chamber until it was broken by the sound of a small door leading down to the kitchens being slammed open against the wall.

A pair of house elves came up the stairs, leading a large red and gold plumed bird.

"Bird is seeming to be wanting to be seeing you, miss," said Dobby. He swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his maroon sweater. "Dobby thinks he is missing Professor Dumbledore very much. Dobby is missing him too."

Minerva reached out with a hand that was trembling, to smooth back the phoenix's feathers. Fawkes flowed upward into her lap, and it seemed only natural to hug him.

"Oh, gods," said Minerva. And at last she cried, into Fawkes's soft feathers.

---

Narcissa woke, her face stiff with tears she had cried the night before. She drew a ragged breath and sat up slowly. The light coming through her windows seemed too bright. The storm had broken, a crack in the clouds spreading wider, and she shielded her eyes.

She had not slept well at all, and the bedcovers were twisted and tangled about her limbs. She set about unwinding them, finally giving vent to her frustration and kicking her way free.

She called for the house elf to bring her tea, wincing as the words came up from her raw throat. Shook her head at her own stupidity as she remembered the house elf had been freed by that meddlesome Potter boy. And the elf must have been telling tales, because in all the years since, no others had come seeking service with the Malfoy family.

Narcissa slammed a fist into the night table at her bedside. Damn the boy! Damn every last one of them, for not having the sense to be broken by Dumbledore's death. For not having the sense to know that they were beaten.

She shook her head again, ran her hands through hair knotted and tangled.

"Draco!"

She called for her son for several long moments, before realizing that the boy was not there.

Narcissa rose from the bed she had shared with Lucius for so many years, and started to get dressed.

She had always been known for taking care with her appearance, and she did so even then. A wave of her wand, a whispered charm, and the knots in her hair undid themselves. In the bathroom she splashed her face with icy water and scrubbed the tearstains away. She met her reflection in the glass and nodded. It would do.

Shrugging into a long black cloak that had belonged to her husband, she paused on her way downstairs to peer into Draco's room, already knowing what she would find there.

Trunk and personal possessions gone, broom vanished from its storage place... There was no note, not that she had really expected one.

"Foolish boy," she said, her voice still scratchy, "you've made a terrible mistake."

But it was done, and this betrayal Narcissa would not, could not, forget. On the night Lucius was murdered, their son left her. Where he had gone was no mystery to her. She knew it to the same degree that she knew where she herself would go.

She had long held a great deal of contempt for the majority of the surviving Death Eaters, and with Lucius gone there was not a one of them she would consider speaking to. Not about this. Her choice, then, was clear, and she took up quill and parchment.

My Lord,

Lucius is dead, killed by the traitor Snape, and my son is fled.

I am yours to command.

Narcissa

On the outside of the envelope she wrote only 'Lord Voldemort', knowing the letter would find its way to him somehow. She only wished that there were a faster way- if she'd had a Dark Mark, there would have been no need for the owl post. Voldemort would have known, as she would have known his will at once.

As it was, there was nothing to do but send the letter, and wait. And hope that whatever else Voldemort might ask of her, she would be given a chance to strike back at Snape and those that had aided him in the murder of her husband.

The wait was not long at all.

Narcissa.

A whisper in her mind, calling out to her. It had been years since she had last heard the voice, but she knew it at once.

"My Lord."

Your letter brings such terrible news, my dear. Is it true?

"Yes, My Lord."

Dear Narcissa. Poor child. And your son's own godfather, too.

"Yes," she whispered.

Do you know where your son has gone, Narcissa? Voldemort asked.

"Not for certain, my Lord, but I can guess."

Voldemort seemed to sigh. Yes. As can I. And what of dear little Wormtail? Your letter said nothing of him.

"Gone, My Lord. Snape and the two who came with him may have-"

Who were they? Voldemort interrupted.

"I don't know, My Lord. I never saw their faces. But I believe they took Wormtail with them. If they had killed him, why not simply leave him here, like Lucius?" Despite herself, she heard her own voice quiver and shake as she spoke her husband's name.

Dear Narcissa... It will be well, child. Come to me, to your brothers and sisters, and you will see.

"Yes, My Lord," Narcissa said. "But...where are you?"

She felt the Dark Lord's sigh. We must Mark you, child. I will send someone for you momentarily.

"Thank you, My Lord!"

Narcissa smiled.