AN: As always, thank you for the comments. I own nothing :)

The sun streamed brightly through the window as he gently resumed consciousness. Unsettled and confused, Harry looked around to find himself abed in Hagrid's abandoned hut. His head pounded as he propped himself up, and slung his legs over the side of the too-tall cot.

"You know, although he's been gone for weeks, it does feel strange to be in his house uninvited…" Luna said absentmindedly as she rolled an apple back and forth on her pale limbs.

Harry blinked a few times, finding it hard to remember how exactly he came to be in this position. As his feet hit the ground, he remembered why he was without shoes, and everything else that had happened the night before.

"I'm sorry I dragged you over here. You could have gone back to the castle without me though." He found his glasses on a tree stump that served as a nightstand, and stood uncomfortably in the cozy room with the blonde witch.

She looked at him, proffered the red fruit, and simply said, "Breakfast?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Well lunch I suppose. You did sleep for a good while. Again I'll have missed my opportunity to visit with the Hinkypunks," she sighed wistfully.

The crease between the brunette's eyes only deepened. He moved towards the front door, passing by Luna awkwardly, as she failed to move from the spot she was occupying. "Um, sorry? There's no need for you to stay. I'll probably be hanging out down here for a while…" he trailed off as he opened the heavy wooden exit.

Luna shrugged as she moved out of the hut and into the warm light. She offered the apple to Harry once again. "Be careful not to spend too much time down here. The strangest creatures will often seek to destroy you when you are low and isolated."

Harry took the apple, and looked at her with exasperation as he began to close the door. "Oh yeah, and what are those rarities called?" He realized his own bitterness, as it soaked into his brash words.

Luna, already turning towards the castle, looked back at Harry with the clearest of eyes.

"Your thoughts."

.

The one detail in the arrangement was throwing him off. The meeting's location. The Fountain of Fair Fortune did not seem the type of establishment that would suit the standards of the woman he was meeting. The streets were bustling at this time of day, and Snape found it hard to avoid the stares of unknown witches and wizards as he made his way to the pub. Clearly his role in the war had cause some sort of speculation and gossip in the world outside of Horgwart's walls. As he caught snippets of idle prattling, his pace quickened.

"Not a traitor after all…" "Probably still honors the dark mark…" "He's hardly the hero type!" "…barely even attractive."

He entered the gathering hall and glanced around quickly as his eyes adjusted to the darkened structure. There, at a table close to the back, sat a woman too elegantly dressed for the surroundings. Narcissa Malfoy slightly gestured to Snape with a nod as a way of greeting, and he made his way across the somewhat noisy bar to join her.

As he began to sit down, he relished in the look of desperation that she wore with no shame. "I'm not sure exactly what it is that you require but…"

"I understand that my son became engaged last evening." Her hands were clasped inside of her lace gloves, but her whitening knuckles gave away what her carefully chosen words did not. "What kind of woman is this Weasley? Lucius will tell me nothing more than what has been done." She waited patiently, eyes wide and unusually bloodshot, for Snape's reply.

He stared at her with just as much impatience, and extreme disappointment. If he was a lesser man, he would not have prevented his mouth from being agape.

Snape realized now that he had been looking forward to this. Rare was the occasion when the Malfoy's requested his aid instead of demanding it. Given their decrease in stature amongst the wizarding world, and his apparent rise, he had thought this would be a more pressing matter. A matter he would have garnered much pleasure in refusing outright. But this? This was more of an insult than a chance to turn the tables of blood-won privilege.

"Excuse me?" An inquisitive sneer was all he could muster.

"Who is this Ginny and why does my son seem to care for her? Yes, our name does not carry the weight it once did, but we are still pure." She whispered the last word of the sentence as she looked around the slightly crowded bar. This was a statement that she would have exclaimed with pride not too long ago. Give the current state of things, one could not be sure of their safety regardless of blood status.

"This… This… this is nonsense!" Narcissa continued. The beautiful witch was finding it hard to keep herself in check as she hissed her words. It seemed the reason that she chose this establishment for their meeting was to attempt to go unnoticed, and she was destroying any chance of this with every syllable that she uttered.

"Excuse me?" Snape responded once again, still unsure of how this conversation had become so devoid of value, so quickly.

Across the table, Narcissa straightened her ascot and in a visual attempt to compose herself. "I know it might be desperation on his part. Soon, thanks to the Ministry, his options will be worse even than a Weasel, but there are still more noble alternatives. I need some kind of information to upend this decision, and I have no one to count on but you, unfortunately." She relaxed slightly in the wooden chair while keeping an impossibly ridged posture.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he leaned in slightly. "What about the Ministry?" Maybe he will not have wasted the better part of his afternoon.

"You know… the measures." She breathed. "With PURE and all the chaos that has come with that… Ridiculous legislation really. It should serve to further degrade the Ministry's hold on power than anything else." She scoffed, seeming pleased with the direction this virtually one-sided conversation had taken.

"But what are they-" He was cut off deftly by a the raise of a lace-clad hand. "No matter. What I require from you is information. I need something solid to upend this engagement. Apparently her family's leanings are not reason enough, and I can see no other way to prevent this blood betrayal." The witch waited, looking expectantly at Snape for an assent.

Not long ago she would have gotten it. Not long ago he would have been inclined to do her bidding, and play the role of a fellow devotee in order to maintain his cover and status. Not long ago, he would not have considered leaving without uttering another word.

But he did.

Confused, Narcissa called out to him, "What? Where do you think you are going?" Heads around them turned, and he saw her sink back a bit, for once, hoping to go unnoticed.

Snape turned to face her. Somehow, he would make this engagement worth his while.

"As the lesser of three sisters, and the matron of a family that has outlived their effect, I seen no reason to waste the rest of my afternoon in your company." He turned, and continued his departure, leaving Narcissa sitting alone, mouth agape.

.

As he moved from the fireplace back into his chambers, Snape felt ill. He had been living in the shadows of his dual loyalties for so long, that it was hard to shake the feeling that he had gone too far with Narcissa. Yes, he was no longer a spy and had no need to please anyone, but having lived that life for so long, how was he to be anything other than that? This was the first time since boyhood that he had not triple checked every word for error or peril before he spoke. There was no doubt that his, as she would put it, insubordination would have already reached Lucius.

But what was there to protect that would be lost? His position was known even to the strangers of Horozont Alley. There was no face to save with the Malfoy's and no Dumbledore to fall back on. He was as alone as he always though himself to be. The knowledge that even his associates, real and cajoled, were no longer even that, brought another level to the emptiness that he had no time, or desire to dwell on.

Snape brushed the ash from his black cloak as he left his chambers behind, and sought to do the same with his thoughts. As he moved into the classroom, he considered grading the poor excuse that students submitted for an assignment. Outside, he could hear the muffled drivel of students as they lingered in the dungeons' hallway. He took a step away from his desk and one towards the sounds of idle youths. This afternoon could yet be salvaged.