Author's note: With gratitude for J.K. Rowling, who created the wonderful world of Harry Potter and so many intriguing characters for us to play with - strictly for amusement and not for profit. The original characters and the rest are my own, and not to be redistributed.

May-June, 1996

Alex collapsed on the ground where she landed, and a moment later the portal slammed shut behind her. Her mind reeling, she tried desperately to sort out enough of what had just happened to figure out what to do. The grass was cool beneath her, and at first it was a blessing because every cell in her body hurt.

I'm dying.

The thought did not trouble her. It would be a relief to stop fighting.

This isn't about me. I can't give up.

Breathing hurt.

Think!

There was too much in her mind, a chaotic whirlpool of knowledge, images, and memories that were not her own.

Albus -

She had to find him.

She was still clutching the wand.

Apparate. I can Apparate.

She couldn't Apparate to Hogwarts. She had to find somewhere safe.

Grimmauld Place -

With an effort of will, she forced herself to her feet and disappeared.

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Remus studied Sirius with concern he was shrewd enough not to reveal. Padfoot was drinking more than he should, and Remus knew the enforced confinement and isolation was having its effect. He wished he could visit more often, but Dumbledore had asked him to take on a critical mission for the Order and he had known he had to go. Sirius had known it also, and had tried to be a good sport about it, but Remus had known him too long and too well to be fooled.

"Have another," Sirius offered hospitably as he poured his own, watching with slightly bleary eyes as the liquid filled the glass.

"Not for me, thanks," Remus replied calmly, casting about in his mind for a distraction. "Have you heard –" The loud clanging of the doorbell interrupted him, followed immediately by the screeching of the portrait in the hall.

Sirius knocked the bottle over and swore.

"Expecting anyone?" Remus asked.

"No one comes here if they don't have to. You know that," he told Remus irritably, and somewhat unfairly. With the Fidelius Charm in place, there were very few people it could be.

"I'll see who it is," Remus said evenly as he rose and went to the hall, leaving Sirius swearing and calling for Kreacher. He was still working his way through the many locks on the massive door when the bell sounded again, re-doubling the noise coming from Mrs. Black's portrait.

He finally got the door unlocked and swung it open. A strange woman was swaying on the doorstep as though fighting to remain standing. Remus was quick enough to get an arm about her waist before she fell to the floor. She was almost skeletally thin, and he lifted her easily and pushed the front door shut with his foot.

"Sirius, get in here!" Remus called sharply. She was still semi-conscious and seemed to be trying to say something he couldn't hear over the shrieking in the hall. He strode into the drawing room just as Sirius emerged from the kitchen. He could hear Sirius struggling to silence the portrait as he placed the woman in his arms gently on one of the olive green settees in the drawing room.

A wave of pain racked her, and his arms, which had been withdrawing, tightened instinctively around her. She fought through the pain, and looked at him with fierce determination. Her eyes were a light shade somewhere between blue and green, and burned with intelligence.

"Albus," she managed to say, her voice an urgent whisper.

"Who's she?" Sirius demanded from the doorway.

"I don't know," Remus said shortly, his eyes locked with hers. "Get Dumbledore. Now." He was aware of Sirius moving away immediately, and was grateful that his friend had taken action without argument. Her name was only one of the questions he wanted to ask her, but it seemed unnecessarily cruel to force her to try to speak.

"We'll get Dumbledore for you," Remus told her, and he read relief in her eyes.

He surveyed her quickly, concealing the depth of his concern. He wasn't a Healer, and she looked like she needed one desperately. A simple Healing Charm should give her a little support until more could be done, and he disengaged one hand to pull out his wand.

"No!" she protested, actually reaching up to grasp the wrist of his wand hand with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Just a basic Healing Charm," he reassured her soothingly. "Nothing to worry about." She didn't look reassured.

"Trapped," she explained.

Remus blanched. Who would be monstrous enough to use a Healing Charm to trigger a trap?

"Voldemort," she said, answering the question he hadn't voiced. Her lips twisted slightly as she said the name, and her fingers slipped off his wrist. He set his anger aside and tried to think of another way to help her.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, and read the answer in her eyes. Fueled by his sense of helplessness, the anger he had been repressing automatically started to bubble to the surface and he forced himself to hold it back - something he had a great deal of experience doing. Displaying his temper would accomplish nothing.

He heard Sirius' footsteps in the hall, and looked up to see him enter the room. He was carrying a glass of water, and Remus was thankful he had thought of it.

"Would you like some water?" Remus asked, turning back to the woman on the settee. He slipped his wand back up his sleeve as she nodded and put out his hand for the glass. Sirius, who was now standing beside him, gave it to him immediately and regarded her with interest as Remus helped her to drink a little.

"Dumbledore will be a few minutes, I'm afraid," Sirius said in his raspy voice. Remus shot him a look. "I did tell him it was an emergency," Padfoot added. "I'm sure he's coming as fast as he can."

Remus turned back to the unknown woman, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes before it was replaced by rapid and determined thought. She swallowed some more water, and spoke again in a shaky voice.

"Severus faster?" she asked. Remus felt Sirius stiffen beside him, but when he turned to him Sirius had already pivoted on his heel and strode away. When he turned back to the settee, he could see that she was fighting another wave of pain. He caught her hand in his free one and gripped it tightly, hoping Dumbledore or Snape would make it there in time.

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Severus Snape was just retrieving some Ashwinder eggs from his private stores when the urgent call came in. Shutting the door to the storeroom, he pulled out his medallion and activated it.

"Yes?" The sound of the voice that replied seemed to make his blood congeal.

"You're urgently needed at headquarters. Leader may be too late." It had to be bad if one of his worst enemies was asking him for help.

"On my way," he answered coolly, deactivating the medallion and sweeping out of the storeroom. Umbridge was patrolling at the moment with the help of Draco Malfoy and some of his other Slytherins - Snape's lips curled as he contemplated the level of support she was receiving from the rest of the faculty - so he could use the fireplace in her office. He dealt with her rather feeble security measures contemptuously and stepped into the fire.

He stepped out again in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, where Sirius Black was surveying him with open dislike. Severus could smell what he'd been drinking easily despite the several feet that separated them and did not trouble to hide his disgust.

"Drawing room," Sirius barked. Snape nodded and strode out quickly, catching a glimpse of Dumbledore's robe as he entered the hall. So Dumbledore had made it after all - Sirius was going to be furious at having called him unnecessarily. Snape smiled inwardly and slackened his pace. He was going to enjoy this.

He stepped into the drawing room and had only an instant to realize what was happening. The Headmaster was kneeling beside a settee containing a woman Severus didn't know, but he quickly grasped the state she was in. He wasn't a Healer of course, but he could recognize the signs of someone subjected to prolonged torture. The werewolf was standing slightly to the side, but Snape ignored him.

Then she raised her wand hand to clasp Dumbledore's and her eyes met the Headmaster's as her lips began to move. Light flared around them, and silver tinged with blue washed in misty waves between her head and his, hiding their faces from sight.

It's possible! Excitement surged through Severus Snape as he realized what he had to be witnessing. The direct transfer of memories from mind to mind was something only hinted at in a few ancient texts. It required great mental discipline on both sides. A fair number of wizards could withdraw a single memory from their minds and place it in a Pensieve, but controlling vast waves of unleashed thought was incredibly difficult and highly dangerous to both parties. Unchecked, the flood could sweep away much more than the memories the sender intended; one warning hinted that it was possible to lose yourself, your sanity, your magic, and even your life if you lost control.

It was just as dangerous for the recipient. Once your mind was opened to what was being sent, it was supremely difficult - perhaps impossible - to halt the flow if the sender did not, particularly when you were occupied trying to process the flood of information being received. It was all too easy to become overwhelmed, to drown in the incoming stream of data. Since the invention of Pensieves, this type of direct mental transfer was unheard of, and Severus realized with almost physical pain that he would probably never see this again.

It could have been me.

He lusted for this incredible experience that had been denied him, the ultimate test of his mental skill, and mourned its loss. If he'd been a little faster, or if Dumbledore had been a little slower, he would have been the one awash in thought. Could he have handled it? He thought so, but he had missed his only chance to prove it.

The wave of silver stopped.

The Headmaster looked both horrified and overwhelmed, an expression on his face that Severus had never seen before. The woman's expression was quite different; Snape caught a glimpse of relief in her eyes before they closed. Her face was serene as she slumped lifelessly into the settee.

The werewolf reached her first, and Snape was irritated to see that he didn't even have the presence of mind to cast a simple Healing Charm on her.

"She said that Healing Charms were trapped," the wolf said, apparently directing his remarks to the Headmaster. "What can we do?"

Dumbledore was white to the lips, his eyes dazed. "Quite correct," he told them with less than his usual assurance. He looked as though he were not yet fully in command of his faculties. He looked at Severus and said, "You must save her." His voice was in between a plea and a command.

Snape regarded him with some irritation. Of course he wanted to save a witch who could do that! He hadn't even gotten to speak to her yet.

"I would be delighted to do so, but I have no information at this point regarding trapped Healing Charms or how I can be of assistance," he returned precisely. "If there is any information you can share with me, it would behoove you to do so." Was what he lacked in the wave of silver that had flashed between Dumbledore and this witch? Severus wondered what other knowledge she might have given the Headmaster, and struggled to conceal the bolt of jealousy that seared through him.

The Headmaster closed his eyes in concentration. Severus heard the wolf murmur, "Blankets, Sirius," while they waited for the white-haired wizard to speak. When Dumbledore opened his eyes again, he seemed to be more like himself, though still pale and shaken.

"Brew Osler's Basic Draught for the Treatment of Internal Injuries, substituting crushed snake fangs for half the mandrake root and reversing the direction of the stirring in the third and fifth steps. She can be started on Avicenna's Draught thirty minutes after she gets the modified Osler's," he directed clearly.

Severus nodded his acknowledgment and left immediately. Returning to Hogwarts was slightly riskier than leaving had been, but his real concern was whether he could finish the potion in time to leave again before Umbridge returned to her office. As usual, he found the potion making itself rather soothing, a neat methodical process that required only order and precision to produce predictable results. In a rare sign of urgency, however, he did not fully bottle it. He stoppered four doses only, two to take with him and two to keep on hand until he could brew some more, and abandoned the rest of the batch in the interests of time. Umbridge should be close to ending her rounds for the evening. While she was ridiculously easy to manipulate in many ways, he didn't wish to waste time with her.

When he returned to Grimmauld Place, the unknown witch was still lying motionless on the settee, although she was now covered in a layer of blankets. Dumbledore was standing over her, wand extended as he performed a variation on a Vita Charm. Severus studied the extra little fillip of his wand just before the last movement, wondering if that too was to avoid a trap of some kind.

"You brought the modified potion, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired calmly. It wasn't a real question, as he knew that Severus would not have returned without it, and Snape was inwardly embarrassed that the Headmaster had needed to recall his attention as if he were a student. He handed him one of the vials without comment. Much to his disgust, the Headmaster passed it to the wolf to administer.

A few moments after the potion was ingested, Dumbledore was able to discontinue the modified Vita Charm, and Snape made a mental note to ask him about it as soon as he had the opportunity.

To his profound annoyance, he did not get an opportunity that night. Once the witch was started on Avicenna's and transferred to an empty room upstairs with the wolf in attendance, Dumbledore sent him back to Hogwarts, saying that he needed to speak to Sirius.

Rather than say something the Headmaster would reproach him for - even if only with his eyes - he returned to the sanctuary of his dungeon without another word.

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Remus stared down at the restless figure twisting in the sheets and wondered what else he could do for her. Dumbledore had been adamant about not taking her to St. Mungo's, but her injuries were so far beyond Remus' limited healing skills that he couldn't even claim to understand what was wrong with her, much less fix it. She had been given the potions the Headmaster had ordered and Remus had continued to administer them as instructed, but he had his doubts as to whether her condition was improving. At first, she had been utterly still and almost lifeless, which had frightened him more than he had admitted, but now that she should be motionless, having ingested the Potion for Dreamless Sleep, she was not.

"Need anything, Moony?" Sirius growled softly from the doorway. Remus looked down one last time and then rose and walked over to join him.

"I don't know what else to do for her," he confessed in a low voice. "Her injuries should be healing and she should be asleep, but she isn't. If Dumbledore hadn't been so insistent about not taking her to St. Mungo's –" Remus ran a distracted hand through his hair prematurely graying hair.

"What do you think?"

"Padfoot, I'm not a Healer, I –" Sirius reached over and clasped his shoulder.

"Moony, you have better instincts about people than anyone I've ever met," his friend told him very firmly. "Trust them."

Remus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Thanks," he told Sirius shakily. His old friend smiled at him with a hint of that mischievous grin from their youth.

"Need a break?"

Lupin looked back into the bedroom and shook his head. "Not just yet, but I wouldn't mind a sandwich the next time you're in the kitchen."

Sirius' words fortified Remus even more than the roast beef sandwich over the next several hours. Obeying his instincts rather than Dumbledore's latest instructions, he did not administer the next dose of the Potion for Dreamless Sleep, and she started to come closer to waking in the early hours of the morning.

Remus had been half dozing in his chair when the sound of her voice roused him, although he couldn't make out any words. He leaned closer.

"You're safe," he told her very gently. Her eyes flickered open a little before closing again. She was frowning slightly, and this time he understood her when she spoke.

"Sirius," she mumbled. Icy water trickled down his spine. Was she one of the many who though his oldest friend was a murderer?

"No one is going to hurt you here," he told her calmly. "You're quite safe now."

"No –" Her eyes opened more fully this time, and she looked directly at him. Remus felt as though he were caught in that piercing blue-green gaze. "He's alive?"

"What?" Remus asked, taken aback.

"Was he killed?"

There was an appreciable pause.

"No," he told her simply. Her eyes traveled warily to his. Obeying an impulse he only imperfectly understood, he reached out to take her hand. It felt right to have it clasped in his, and he thought she relaxed in response to his touch.

"Sure?" Her voice was fading now.

"I wouldn't lie about this," he assured her. "Will you trust me?" After a moment's hesitation, he read acceptance in her eyes before they closed again. Her hand fell slack in his, and he gently set it down. This time, she seemed to be really asleep, with none of the restless attempts to stir that had marked even her potion-induced sleep before.

It was several moments before he realized Sirius was awake and standing in the doorway, watching Remus watch her. Remus looked up and gestured to the hall, following Sirius out and closing the door behind them.

"Are you sure you don't know her?" Remus asked. Sirius shook his head.

"Never so much as laid eyes on her in my life," Sirius said flatly.

"She seems quite keen to be sure you're alive for a stranger." Her concern seemed somewhat out of place, and it troubled him.

"Yes, but then these days it seems that everyone is awfully anxious to keep me alive," Sirius returned grimly, his mouth twisting, "from Molly Weasley to Dumbledore. He gave me another lecture about staying safely inside, did I tell you?" Remus knew how hard it was for Sirius to stay confined to Grimmauld Place, and tried to think of something he could say. This must have shown on his face, for his friend suddenly looked at him and tried to smile.

"Don't worry so, Moony, you'll turn old before your time," he teased gruffly. "I'm fine and this - well, it's probably Harry. It's no secret that I'm his godfather, and the other members of the Order know I'm not what I appear to be to the Ministry. Sick people get odd notions in their heads all the time, but you seem to have managed to calm her down. I told you you've got a talent for this." Remus smiled back rather half-heartedly and let it go.