Chapter Six: Planning and Preparation

Three days of reading gave him little more insight into the magic he had wielded while saving Lily. Most books dealt with wild magic as an uncontrolled force, inexplicable and untamed, which was frequently abandoned once a child received a wand and began to learn control. Books describing wandless and wordless magic came closer to describing his experience, but weren't quite accurate. Most of them described the magic as learned through hard repetition and concentration, not the direction and honing of emotion.

Severus eventually concluded that Rumplestiltskin's magic was a variant of wordless, wandless magic, with an element of emotional control that made it similar to the uncontrolled wild magic of children. It was an interesting system that made him suspect that the other mage was self-trained. Given his own state of exhaustion, which persisted for two days after his awakening, he was forced to conclude that Rumplestiltskin was also a very powerful magic wielder, most likely stronger than either the Dark Lord or Dumbledore.

He spent a full day studying the mirror, and his own Pensieved memories of the magic he had used, detailing everything he could discover about the magical signature and effects and committing the information to memory before passing it on to Dumbledore to pass on to his contacts among the International Confederation of Warlocks. Dumbledore in turn suggested further tests, helping him hone his sense of the other-world power, and separating the signature of Rumplestiltskin himself from the foreign power of another reality. The spells intrigued him. Though he was quite proficient in identifying magical signatures, he had never honed the talent to the precision that Dumbledore had, and he found the new information and skills to be quite gratifying.

He could have easily spent longer studying the strange magic, but there were other things he needed to take care of. He finished Dumbledore's tests, passed the resultant new information back to the elder wizard, then turned his attention to other tasks.

His trial had been set for the second week of December. Nothing Dumbledore did or said could convince Sirius Black that he hadn't been involved in the death of James Potter. And no argument in the world could erase the Dark Lord's Mark from his arm. Dumbledore had promised to testify for him, and while he knew Black would demand he be questioned under Veritaserum, he also knew that the Wizengamot had agreed to limit the questions he could be asked. In addition, he had the Pensieved memories that both he and Dumbledore had provided, as well as a few other Order members, revealing his role as a spy. Those would be viewed in a closed court, for his own protection, but they would hopefully be enough.

When he wasn't preparing for his trial, Severus worked on getting his projects in order. He'd already given Dumbledore notice of his resignation, provided he was not shipped to Azkaban. He'd agreed to finish his year contract, out of a sense of duty and obligation, but after that he fully intended to pursue the research that he had put off. Newberry would replace him, probably to the intense gratitude of the students, who regarded him as a tyrant.

His first project would be to compile, detail and submit the revisions he had made to several potions over his student years. He'd written everything into the margins of his notes and his school books as a boy, and now he worked at transcribing the details into a journal. If nothing else, it was a good first step in establishing his reputation in the field of Potions. He was a Potions Master, one of the youngest ever, but even with his Mastery, he needed to prove his skills.

Another journal was procured to detail the spells he had invented. Several of them were far too dangerous for public use, but he thought the Aurors might have use of them. If nothing else, he might see about writing a supplementary Defense textbook, or an advanced spell-book with them. He might have considered eradicating them entirely, but there were far too many Death Eaters who knew of his spells. His gift for destructive spell-work had been one of the reasons the Dark Lord had been eager to recruit him, and he'd had to prove himself with his more deadly arsenal more than once.

A third journal he started for potions he wished to experiment with creating. He'd had several ideas during his tenure as both a student and a teacher, but a school was hardly a place to implement them. The Dark Lord had allowed him some experimentation during his term as a Death Eater, but his talents then had been focused on destructive potions and poisons. Should he escape Azkaban, he hoped to be able to brew and perfect some of his other potions. Defense potions and healing potions, based on the work he'd done modifying potions in previous years. He'd also heard word of a Wolfsbane Potion that was in development, and the concept intrigued him. Such a potion might be complicated, but it was worth making if it rendered werewolves docile. And if it could be modified to eliminate the transformation entirely…well, that development would take time, but he saw no reason why he couldn't experiment. Though he would have to ask Bellby if the other potioneer minded.

And that led to his fourth journal, a list of professional contacts he needed to make. Being a Potions Master was all well and good, but knowing the right people was even more critical, especially in the wizarding community. He did have his contacts among the Death Eaters, but he would need others. Particularly if he was going to break away from the Dark Lord's former circle.

Slughorn might be able to help him, but he wasn't sure the old man would bother. Besides, Slughorn had never cared for him as a student, and he had no desire to try and ingratiate himself now. He saw no reason to seek the assistance of the old man if he could avoid it. Not to mention, he'd had enough of offers that came with strings.

He'd made some effort at following Potions publications since his graduation, and even more once he'd become a teacher. Now he went through his books with painstaking care, looking for names. Prominent Healers at St. Mungos, to whom he might present his work in healing potions or spells. Other Potions Masters, like Bellby, or even Newberry, once the man had finished his Mastery. Newberry lacked his creative drive, but his understanding of the basics was excellent, and he would be a solid partner for testing and verifying, if he agreed.

There were also several prominent families in the wizarding world that he might seek out. Families like the Longbottoms, or the Weasleys. The Weasleys were poor, but well liked. There were also the Bones, the Diggorys, The Greengrass family, and multiple others who had sided with law-abiding forces or declared themselves neutral in the conflict that had rocked the wizarding community.

There were also international contacts to consider. Dumbledore's associates would be a good start, but he intended to go farther afield. That way, if the wizards and witches of Britain turned him away, he might find a place in the States, or in Europe. Most countries had magical communities, and he couldn't afford to ignore any possible opportunity.

Besides, even if he could make a home in England, he would need those contacts to help him in his search. His search for the unnamed child, and the boy Baelfire. There was no indication where the two children had or would appear, and he couldn't afford to lose them simply because he was tangled in bureaucratic arguments. Magic and potential consequences notwithstanding, he had no desire to be forsworn.

That led him to make another journal, detailing his plans for searching. Or, in the event of his imprisonment, for asking Dumbledore to search. He would start in England, providing there were any incidents to research in England. From there he would branch outward. Rumplestiltskin had, to his ear, spoken English, albeit with an accent that reminded him of McGonnagall. Therefore, he would start his search in English speaking countries. He would also look closely at Europe, as a matter of proximity. There was every possibility that the connection had been forged in some inter-dimensional proximity, wherein Rumplestiltskin's home approximated the Dark Lord's manor in England, and the curse would be cast in a similar state of locational relation. At least, that was one theory that Dumbledore had explained to him.

He would have to read up on inter-dimensional theory if he escaped Azkaban. It was not a widely studied branch of magic, and he doubted he would find much of use, but it was worth investigating if he could.

Teaching was a difficult task, combined with all his other concerns. At Dumbledore's request, and as a public show of good faith, he had returned to his classes. He couldn't help snarling at his students, especially when they were careless or inattentive but, mindful of his public image, he managed to refrain from taking excessive points, or assigning too many detentions. He did assign one, to a boy who had thought it would be 'fun' to experiment with his potion and nearly vaporized his cauldron and his workstation, to say nothing of his partner. He was careful to avoid showing too great a favoritism to Slytherin, or too great an animosity to Gryffindor, much though it galled him.

Between planning and grading, he worked long into the night, often getting only three hours of sleep before tumbling out of bed to prepare for the following day. The pace was wearing, but he hadn't been sleeping much before. Not with the nightmares and memories that had tormented him. In many ways, he welcomed the exhaustion and the shortened sleep cycles as an antidote to the nightly reliving of his sins. In any case, working himself to exhaustion was far easier than brewing Dreamless Sleep, far more rewarding, and far less addictive.

Being busy also kept him from dwelling on Lily overmuch. He knew she was still in the castle with her son, but he barely ever saw her, and never long enough to strike up a conversation. He heard from Professor Sprout that she was considering buying a home in Hogsmeade, or possibly returning to Potter Manor. The news left him conflicted. On one hand, he wished he could renew his relationship, or perhaps rebuild one, with her. On the other, it was painful having her so near. She hadn't approached him since their argument by the library, and he couldn't decide, in his moments of consideration, whether he was grateful for the respite, or bitter over it.

Either way, the next move was hers.

Thinking about Lily, though, also made him think about family. And children. If things went the way he hoped they would, if he succeeded in fulfilling his promise to Rumplestiltskin, then he'd have children. Two of them, of different ages. He wasn't sure how old the boy was, but the picture Rumplestiltskin had showed him was that of a teenager. He'd be safe in assuming that Baelfire was a teen, or a young man.

That left him with the consideration of housing. On his own, he'd have remained in Spinners End. He hated the house, and it was a dreary place in desperate need of repair and refurbishing, but it was paid for and established, as well as familiar. His books were there, and his materials, and what few possessions and bits of his Muggle life he'd bothered to keep. For a lone bachelor it was comfortable enough. For raising a child, however…

He wouldn't delude himself by thinking he was a good man, or that he'd be a particularly good father, but he was determined not to be the kind of parent his own had been. Provided he wasn't in jail by Christmas, he had the means to find a comfortable dwelling place at least. Something that didn't have such an air of misery soaked into the very walls. Some place that he didn't love and loathe all at the same time.

Which brought him to the subject of what he did want and need in a home. If he was going to move, he was going to make sure his new place suited him. In theory, he might lay claim to any estate the Princes had, but he'd never heard of any inheritance of his, and it wouldn't do to assume he'd received anything from his mother's family.

He'd saved his money over the years from teaching and commissions he'd done over the years. Enough that he might manage a small, modest place. He found a roll of parchment that he labeled 'Home' and used it to list his various needs.

A basement, a large one, was essential for Potions research of any kind. Other than that...well, he had enough of stairs at Hogwarts, but he also valued his privacy. He didn't want people to simply be able to wander around and poke their nose into his business. So perhaps a two-story building would be acceptable. Well, three if he counted the basement.

He'd want more than one bathroom, for his own peace of mind as well as the childrens. An infant might not care, but he remembered enough of being a teenager to know that privacy was a hard-won and much-desired commodity. Particularly a young girl. There was also the convenience of having a downstairs loo as well as an upstairs one.

A kitchen would be good. He had never done much cooking, but suspected it was much like potions, and that he'd manage well enough. He certainly wasn't going to be one of those fathers who lived on take-out, beer and fish-and-chips. He didn't see much use in a spare dining area, if the kitchen was of an adequate size, but a room for his books would be invaluable. Perhaps more than one. And, of course a sitting room, for relaxing and perhaps a guest or two. The children might have them, even if he doubted very many people would be visiting him.

Then again, if he was successful in cultivating contacts, he might have reason to entertain after all. And he doubted Albus would leave him alone.

So, three, perhaps four bedrooms, at least two lavatories, a kitchen, a sitting room, and a study or a library, plus a basement Potions laboratory. And whatever magical or Muggle devices he chose to furnish his home with.

It occurred to him then that he had no idea if the children were magical or not. He'd assumed, given Rumplestiltskin's obvious power, that his son would possess magic. And if the girl-child was to be a 'Savior' of some kind and a curse-breaker, magic seemed a prerequisite. But there was no guarantees. Lily was powerful enough, but there was no question that Petunia hadn't had a drop of magic in her blood. Plenty of magical families had Squibs, just like there were plenty of Muggle-born children.

He himself had been raised with a foot in both worlds, though his father's influence had made him flee to the Wizarding world as soon as he could. But he still recalled much of what he had known, and there were aspects of the Muggle world that were helpful. Like electricity. And refrigerators. Magic could, of course, duplicate both, but it cost power and energy that might be spent on other things. But again, he had no idea if either child would possess magic. He had no intention of 'going Muggle' as it was called, but after careful consideration, he thought it might be wise to plan for the eventuality of non-magical children in his home. Just in case.

For that matter, given that Rumplestiltskin had mentioned a 'Land Without Magic', he might find himself venturing into the Muggle world more frequently than he expected. Which in turn meant it would be best if he knew enough not to attract attention. Over a year of being a spy made being conspicuous distasteful to him. He had no desire to stand out, the way most wizards did when they ventured into Muggle areas.

Which meant he'd have to have an appropriate wardrobe as well. Transfiguration and glamours could only do so much.

He considered his scroll, then owled for yet another journal, detailing all the Muggle information or equipment he'd need to function in Muggle society. The list was quite comprehensive, and he was certain it wasn't complete.

He spent the next week hovering near some of the Muggle-born and half-blood students, trying to gather information on what he might need to know. He could have asked, he supposed, but it seemed beneath his dignity. And he highly doubted the Muggle Studies teacher was much better informed than he was. He'd seen the recommended materials, and even his childhood in Spinners End had taught him that the materials were very out-of-date.

Late into the third week of November, Dumbledore stopped by his rooms and gave him a sheaf of parchment, sealed within a heavy envelope. It turned out to be a documented record of unusual magic that had occurred in the British Isles over the past several centuries. In particular, Dumbledore's source had marked out two sections, regarding incidents in London. The first talked of a 'residue' discovered in Central Park, the second of a magical disturbance at a residence in London proper, at a brownstone owned by a wealthy businessman, who had reported the disappearance of a boy he'd adopted. The incidents were about eight months apart. They both featured magic that was, even in the Wizarding World, 'uncanny' and 'otherworldly'.

Severus was skeptical about the validity of the reports, not least because they had been filed nearly three hundred years ago, but after consideration, he decided he might investigate after all. Magic was a strange thing, and wizards were a long-lived race. Not to mention that there were a plethora of spells and potions that could keep even a person alive for a long time. Besides, he had no idea what kind of powers Rumplestiltskin's world possessed. For all he knew, there was some miraculous 'Potion of Youth' or a Philosopher's Stone. Or people could simply be longer lived in his world.

At least the report provided confirmation that the incidents had occurred in Muggle London, rather than the Wizarding World. Which meant that some of his suppositions about the amount of time he'd need to spend among non-magic folk were correct. He was glad to have at least one of his theories verified.

He wondered if he might be able to make the acquaintance of the Unspeakable who had provided Dumbledore with the information. Unspeakables were generally a lonely and reclusive group, but they might be willing to speak with him, provided he went about it the right way. As a researcher, and as a fellow recluse.

He had, in fact, considered a job as an Unspeakable once. But at the time, he'd wanted more recognition than such a job usually earned. He'd wanted to make a name for himself. He'd been seduced by promises of fame and power. In hindsight, he wished he'd stuck to his original idea. As an Unspeakable, he might have had the leisure to pursue his Potions research, without the tangle the Dark Lord had made of his life.

Of course, if that had happened, he might not have saved Lily. Then again, he might not have lost her to Potter either. And she might not have been in danger if he hadn't overheard the prophecy. But thinking of that only made for sleepless nights and tormented dreams, so he did his best not to think of it. It was easier, and safer to his sanity, to go over all the things he needed and wanted to do, prioritizing them.

It was easier to think about how his plans would be demolished, if he was sentenced to Azkaban, and how he might have to manage then. Or what he might be able to manage, before the Dementors sucked every ounce of happiness and sanity out of him. Always assuming, of course, that Black didn't persuade the Wizengamot to have him Kissed.

In the dark nights when the blackness seeped into his soul, he wondered which was worse. Having your soul sucked away, or enduring it's slow erosion over years and years of continual torment. He'd heard the Kiss was unbearable to watch, let alone endure, but he couldn't imagine that suffering Azkaban would be much better. On those nights, it was an effort not to set fire to his carefully recorded notes and journals. He was sorely tempted, in those bleak hours, to burn his plans and dreams to ashes, to leave no scrap of hope that Black and the Wizengamot could wrest from him.

He distracted himself by talking over his trial preparations with Dumbledore, and his research plans. They discussed his Potions, his prospective contacts, his plans. They played chess every now and then.

When Dumbledore was busy, Severus worked on marking student assignments, and teaching Newberry what he needed to know about being a full-time teacher, especially of Potions. Jacob was appreciative of his advice, and he was amiable enough that the hours spent in his company were no hardship. He was also quite willing to assist Severus with experimentation, and excited over the innovations Severus chose to share with him. Like most Potioneers, he'd been trained one way and rarely experimented with other techniques. Mastery required a certain amount of innovation, of course, but Severus had always been far more daring than most and Newberry was modest enough to accept that.

The work helped, as did both men's courtesy and acceptance. Too, his colleagues were supportive of him. Even if he suspected a few of them agreed with Black, none of them said so to his face or in his hearing, and that was a relief. McGonagall was even almost kind to him.

Still, as the trial date loomed nearer, his spirits sank. Sleep became nearly impossible, and his mood worsened, to the point where he was liable to snap at anyone who spoke to him.

It was in this mood that Lupin found him, the evening of the first day in December.

Author's Note: A bit of an interlude for poor Severus to sort out his thoughts and plans.

Next up...Severus has unexpected support...and the trial date arrives.