Chapter 7- I am the sword in the darkness

November 1

Cúchulainn gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He could feel a headache building like a thunderstorm. The Irish wizard opened his eyes and looked gravely down at the three bound students. The Weasley girl, Longbottom, and Lovegood peered up at him with wide, curious expressions.

"What," he growled deeply, "are you lot doing here?" He vanished the summoned ropes with a sharp snap of his fingers. The Gryffindor girl was the first to scramble to her feet.

"You're Lord Cúchulainn, aren't you?" She asked, awed. Cúchulainn raised an eyebrow impatiently. "Oh, er, well, we were wondering why there was never a friday m-" The redhead bit her tongue. She wouldn't have said even that much if she hadn't been thrown by the wizard's presence.

"He already knows about the DA," Granger reassured her. "You wanted to find out what we were doing every Friday?"

"If they know, they put all of us in danger," Cúchulainn said gravely.

"We won't tell anyone!" Longbottom protested. The Irish wizard glared down at the students.

"There are... ways for someone to take your knowledge unwillingly." He told them darkly. Longbottom paled.

"Then why don't you train them too?" Potter challenged him. His green eyes glowed as he warmed up to the idea. "Ginny's family are part of the Order, and Luna and Neville are part of Dumbledore's Army. They should know how to defend themselves!"

Cúchulainn wrestled down the urge to snap at him for the disrespect. "If you feel so strongly about this, Mr Potter, why haven't you taught your 'army' Occlumency?"

Potter opened and closed his mouth for a moment before forcefully emptying his face. "Shouldn't a master do it?" He retorted after a moment.

"Shouldn't a professor teach Defense?" Cúchulainn shot back. "I'm sure the three of you can manage."

"Please, professor?"

Severus tensed. Lovegood was watching him with a faint smile. How the bloody hell does she do that? He wondered, exasperated. He knew it wasn't a simple respectful title and could catch the nearly hidden hard edge. Please, professor, or I'll tell everyone here. She was a bloody Augur herself, he was almost certain.

Cúchulainn chuckled, a touch annoyed, and shook his head. "I see. Very well, I will teach those here, but no-one else. If you are caught after curfew, you are on your own, and if any more students walk in I will stop training everyone." He wouldn't stay secret forever, but he just needed a little longer...

"Yessir!" The six students exclaimed.

Severus was on patrol when his arm began to burn. He had been expecting it.

The spy jogged to the gate and Apparated. When the spinning stopped, he looked around. His blood chilled in his veins when he recognized the Gaunt Manor. Wonderful, he snarked weakly, another test.

Severus put on his mask and hurried to the Main Hall. He wasn't last, thankfully, but he had a dreadful suspicion that it wouldn't matter tonight; Voldemort would take his anger out on his follows regardless of what they did now.

The Dark Lord stormed into the room, his black robes billowing around him like a thundercloud. "Bellatrix, Luciusss," he hissed. The two purebloods crawled towards him on their knees, pressing their masked foreheads down on the hem of his robe. "Crucio!"

The screams echoed through the hall for a full ten minutes, reducing the writhing Death Eaters to sobbing, twitching robes. Voldemort's red eyes blazed, but he cancelled the curse before he drove two of his highest ranking followers to insanity. "Severus."

The Potions Master stepped over the crumpled witch and wizard. He knelt down and kissed his master's feet.

Voldemort didn't give him a moment to breath. "Legilimens!" The powerful mental attack washed over Severus and he let it in. He caught a brief glimpse of Hogwarts before a memory took its place.

They were in his study. Severus was grading papers, pausing occasionally to cast a quick tempus. October 31, 6:01, 6:47, 7:25, 8:34, 9:50. Around eleven, he packed up the essays and turned in. Voldemort yanked at the memory, unwinding it in reverse. He tore through every day of his spy's life all the way back to October 8th, rifling meticulously back hour by hour. He found nothing.

Severus tried to open his eyes and felt his head spin sickeningly. His cheek was cold against the rough carpet. His mouth was thick with the cloying taste of blood. He had to pry open his jaw by hand to free his teeth from his tongue.

"Stand." Voldemort ordered softly. The Potions Master dragged himself laboriously to his feet and stood, swaying, before his master. His vision blurred and darkened from the effort, but he remained upright. "Are you loyal, Severus?"

"I am, my Lord." Severus croaked.

"Draw your wand."

Severus drew his old wand.

It was a small miracle he made it to Hogwarts without splinching himself. Severus stood at the gate for a few minutes, staring at his hand and attempting to remember how to use it. He eventually shoved it open, blindly stumbling towards the dungeons by muscle memory.

"...erus? Severus!"

The spy blinked muzzily and focused with difficulty on the hazy form of Poppy in front of him.

"Severus, look at me!" She ordered frantically, casting a quick diagnostic charm. "Oh, dear," she muttered under her breath. Mind magic was a delicate business, Severus knew, and Voldemort had mercilessly pulled away at the threads of his sanity. The Dark Lord must have been enraged over the failure to deal with Cúchulainn if he was willing to risk his spy's valuable head.

Poppy took the Potions Master's arm and tugged him towards the Hospital Wing. She guided him to a chair, biting her lip worriedly when he folded down without resistance.

Severus stared blankly at the wall. He was peripherally aware of the mediwitch bustling around the room.

"You are going to give me a heart-attack some day, Severus Snape," she groused as she furiously mixed powder in a steel mortar. She paused, waiting hopefully for his snide comeback, and went on after a moment, "potions alone won't help much, as I'm sure you know." She tapped the mortar with her wand and released a controlled stream of water until the contents were thin enough to drunk. "Open." Poppy commanded. The spy's mouth popped open instinctively and the healer tipped the potion down his throat before the listless obedience wore off.

Poppy watched the fog in Severus' black eyes thicken noticeably. The potion would let even an inexperienced Legilimens like her walk through his defenses without hurting him more than necessary. Severus had created it himself in case his Mental Fortress was ever damaged more than he could fix alone. Only he and Poppy knew exactly how to prepare it, and the recipe resided with the Potions Master alone.

The healer took a stabilizing breath. "Legilimens," she cast hesitantly.

Poppy opened her eyes and looked around, confused. She was still in the hospital wing, but there were small changes. Severus was gone, a few items had been moved, removed or added, and the beds had the minty green sheets of twenty years ago. The mediwitch popped her head out of the door and gasped. The hallways were scattered with detritus and there were gaping holes in the stone walls, floors and ceiling.

She wandered Hogwarts with morbid curiosity. The castle was in ruins, every surface not cratered or spell-burnt were covered in rubbish. The halls were empty of people or even portraits. The armoured suits had taken off. Poppy stepped out onto the grounds and stopped. The Forbidden Forest was burning, Hagrid's cabin had collapsed and, if she squinted, the mediwitch could make out the outline of a devastated Hogsmeade.

Poppy turned around and raced down to the dungeons. It was in slightly better condition, Severus defended them viciously, and even with the potion the witch couldn't get into his personal rooms.

"How do I fix this, Severus?" She asked the closed door despairingly. She felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes and drew her wand with a growl. "Reparo!" To the healer's delighted shock, the rubble on the ground rolled into the holes and sealed over seamlessly. Poppy grinned widely and ran through the building, casting the Mending Charm at every crack and pebble. When Hogwarts was finished, she headed for the Forbidden Forest.

There was a black owl roosting in a tree. It's golden eyes fixed on her from above and it hooted a small greeting.

"Severus?" Poppy nearly laughed. "I thought you were in the dungeon! Why did you lock up your quarters so tightly if you weren't in them?"

"Exactly." The owl replied softly.

"Clever." She raised her wand. "Aqua Eructo!" A powerful stream of water shot up into the trees, extinguishing the flames with a damp hiss. The owl glided down and landed lightly on her shoulder as Poppy marched down towards Hogsmeade.

"You don't need to-" The owl started. The witch cut him off with a snort.

"Shush, Severus, I want to help." She told him firmly. "Hogsmeade is the last place?"

"...Yes."

Poppy huffed but didn't challenge him. The spy needed to retain his independence, she knew, and he would be able to weave his walls back into place when she was done.

Hogsmeade had avoided the brunt of the damage. Poppy guessed that whatever he had been looking for, it hadn't been in the village. It didn't take long to spell everything back into place with reparo. Poppy was about to leave when a building caught her eye. The Shrieking Shack.

The owl pulled her hair when she tried to step towards it. "I will handle the rest." He said stiffly. Poppy brushed him off and walked stubbornly to the dilapidated building. Her hand had just touched the door when the world swirled painfully away.

Severus was standing when she opened her eyes again, an unreadable look in his cold black eyes.

Poppy winced and tensed her jaw. "I'm a mediwitch, Severus," she stated shrilly, "it is my duty to help in any way I can."

The spy stared at her silently.

She continued almost desperately. "I need to know what's wrong! If you won't tell me what happens, how can I- can I-" Poppy gritted her teeth.

"I killed a man tonight." Severus said impassively. "Can you bring him back to life?"

Poppy closed her eyes. "No. I can't."

"Then what use is there in telling you?"

She opened her eyes to glare at him. "So you aren't alone, Severus!" She cried angrily. "You don't have to be alone!" The Potions Master looked away. He was of a different opinion. Poppy focused on her breathing for a minute, calming down. "You're staying here tonight." She ordered, pointing at private room door.

Severus watched her for a few second. "Fine."

The door swung open slightly with a creek and Albus poked his head around the corner, ready to duck. "Are you alright, my boy?" He asked with a concerned frown. Severus nodded sharply and waved for him to come in.

"Oh, no you aren't!" Poppy protested. "Mediwitch's orders, Severus is going straight to bed. He can report in the morning."

"It'll only be a moment, I promise," Albus chuckled, walking over. "I would never get between a healer and her patient. Severus?"

"Bellatrix and Lucius were punished for their failure. The Dark Lord searched my memories and my cover is intact. An unknown Muggle was executed." Severus reported with clinical coldness.

The headmaster sighed mournfully. "I see. Nothing could be done?"

Poppy nearly leapt at Dumbledore. "No, Headmaster, nothing could be done! One man against You-Know-Who and his most powerful followers? You've had your report and it is my professional opinion that we should all get some sleep." She said, placing a protective hand on the professor's shoulder.

Albus held up his hands in an attempt to mollify the witch. "I apologize, Poppy, I should have thought more carefully about what I was saying. I understand not everyone can be saved and it is in no way your fault." He directed the last statement to his spy. "Now, it is quite late. Thank you, Severus, Poppy. Goodnight." He smiled to them both and left.

"Bed." Poppy said determinedly. "Now."

Severus grumbled but let the short witch usher him to the private room.

November 2

Severus clapped politely as the Slytherin Quidditch team rose into the air. Madame Hooch blew her whistle, throwing the Quaffle. Minerva shuffled closer and Severus closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Severus Tobias Snape, I could kill you!" She hissed into his ear. The rest of the staff wouldn't be able to hear her quiet angry words over the roar of the crowd. "How long?"

"... Since October 7," he replied reluctantly. The Deputy Headmistress swelled up like an enraged cat.

"You- for nearly a month-" she sputtered helplessly. Minerva's words failed her and she swatted his shoulder viciously a few times. Albus glanced at them but looked away when she glared back. "Don't you think it's unfair to yourself and him?" She asked, a frown on her strict face. "I understand, Severus, you needed someone, but-"

"Minerva," Severus growled. The witch huffed, unimpressed.

"But," she continued mercilessly, "you can't keep lying to him. Either you tell him, or..."

The Potions Master stared impassively out into the Quidditch field, tracking Draco's fluttering black robe dive through the snow. "I know." He said softly. Minerva patted his forearm sympathetically.

The witch paused and jumped towards the railing to squint at the players. "They've spotted the Snitch!" She cried. Severus grinned slightly at her incredibly Gryffindor tactic of distraction and watched the Seekers soar in the sleet. "Potter's got it!"

Crabbe appeared through the blizzard and brought his Beater's club sharply across the back of Potter's head. The stands shook with the furious clamor of protests and cheers. Both house heads leaned over the railing, wands raised.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Arresto Momentum!"

Potter slowed to a stop and was gently lowered to the cold, wet ground. Hooch swooped on Crabbe, furiously blowing her whistle while the Gryffindor team descended around Potter. Draco hovered over them, his words indistinct, and the Weasley twins attempted to drag the broom down. Potter stumbled to his feet, knocked the other boy to the ground and began hitting the Slytherin.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, what now?" Minerva grumbled and tore off down the stairs.

Albus took her vacant seat. "Why was Minerva so upset with you, Severus?" He asked with a grandfatherly smile and an almost pitying pat on the hand. Dumbledore knew better than to directly bring up anything that happened at a Death Eater meeting.

"Friendly staff rivalry," Severus told him dryly, "and a very sharp tongue." The headmaster chuckled.

"Are you going out today, my boy? A day off seems to be very good for you." His wise blue eyes twinkled. The snarky young Potions Master's sudden change in temperament had been the talk of the school. "Perhaps all of the professors would benefit from a weekly break."

"You'll hear no protests from us, I assure you." He wouldn't have to keep coming up with excuses, at least. "I'm calling a house meeting and heading out."

The meeting was longer than he thought it would be, and the sun had already set by the time Cúchulainn walked unannounced into Grimmauld Place. Black wasn't in the kitchen, sitting room, or dining room. He frowned and checked the bedroom.

"Sirius?" Cúchulainn called, stepping into the dark room. There was a frantic clink of glass and the quick thump of something charging. The Irish wizard braced himself and just barely maintained his balance when Padfoot crashed into him. The massive dog wrapped his paws around the man's shoulders, whimpering plaintively. "Blessed Avalon, Padfoot, what's wrong?"

The animagus shifted into his human form and buried his face in Cúchulainn's neck. "I'm sorry, okay!" He nearly wailed, frustrated and upset.

The spy tried to pry Sirius' arms from his neck. The other man's breath stunk of whiskey and the smell made Severus' head spin. "Calm down, Sirius," he ordered, bemused. "What are you on about? I'm just a few hours late!"

"You're a-angry with me," Black sniffled miserably, tightening his hold.

"I'm not angry with you, Sirius." Cúchulainn growled. His back was starting to hurt from the uncomfortable angle Sirius was forcing it in.

"You sound angry!"

"I'm not-" Cúchulainn cut himself off and drew a slow, deep breath. "I am not angry, Sirius." He reassured him patiently. "What is this about?" He half-carried Black into his room and pushed the drunk man down onto his bed. The room was warm and musty, it stunk overwhelmingly of whiskey.

"I thought," Black rubbed his face with a dazed look, "I thought you were upset 'cause I didn't talk to you about letting anyone else know before-"

"It's okay, Sirius." Cúchulainn said softly.

"But you didn't come over-"

"I was busy-"

"An' I waited but you still didn't-"

"I-"

"An' then I started drinking-"

Cúchulainn caught Black's chin and pulled him into a firm kiss, muffling the other man's drunken babbling. His nose wrinkled at the taste of alcohol but he didn't pull back until he was sure Sirius would let him talk uninterrupted.

"It's okay, Sirius." He repeated, moving his hand to cup Black's cheek. "It was... unexpected, but I'm not mad. You could announce our relationship to the entire order and I wouldn't be angry. I have nothing to be ashamed of."

Well, Cúchulainn had nothing to be ashamed of.

"Bu-but you weren't here-"

"I was busy, Sirius. I will try to send a message if it happens again," Cúchulainn promised. The dog animagus finally calmed somewhat and leaned against him. The Irish wizard wrapped one arm around him and rubbed his shoulder with difficulty.

"You're'n't too busy, are you?" Sirius mumbled sleepily into his chest. He was hardly awake, but forced his eyes open long enough to stare intently up at Cúchulainn.

"I'll never be that busy," Cúchulainn grumbled. "I've seen the trouble you get up to if you're left alone."

Sirius smiled and curled up closer. Severus waited until the breathing dropped into a whistling snore before drawing his blackthorn wand and whispering, "Aλκοόλειςνερό." A rush of magic swept through the building. The Potions Master sniffed the air and was relieved that the stink of whiskey had faded nearly to nothing.

Severus grinned wickedly and settled down. He had Black's miserably sober headache and future annoyance to look forwards to. He drifted off listening to Sirius' comforting quiet snuffle.

...

He smelt blood. It clung to the back of his throat, coated his tongue, filled his lungs until he choked. It broiled inside him and the spy broke out in a feverish sweat. Severus jerked awake and took gulping breaths of stale air.

Sirius stirred, tightening his hold over the other man's chest. "Coal?" He murmured, half-asleep. He struggled up until he could see Cúchulainn's scarred face in the darkness. "Y'r'al'ight?"

The Irish wizard soothed him by carding his hand through Black's hair. "I'm fine, go back to sleep." Sirius blinked slowly a few times, barely conscious.

" 'S this 'bout the Death Eaters?" He asked eventually. Sirius was a bit more sober and wiggled closer to kiss Cúchulainn's neck reassuringly. "They aren't worth it. They'd've killed us."

Cúchulainn made a neutral sound and closed his eyes. He could feel the dog animagus' gaze on him for a while before snoring filled the bedroom.

The Potions Master couldn't sleep again and instead watched Black's chest rise and fall. After a few hours, Severus slipped out of the bed and left on silent feet. He made it to his rooms near five in the morning without being seen.

"Mrrrw?"

Severus looked down blearily at his feet. A dignified grey tabby with distinctive markings around her eyes sat by his door, ears pinned disapprovingly. The Potions Master cast a quick spell for privacy.

"We didn't do anything, if that's what you think." He told her with a trace of annoyance. "He's a cuddly drunk." The cat scoffed and gracefully changed her form.

"Hagrid's back," Minerva said stiffly. "There will be an Order meeting in three hours."

"Thank y-" The old witch marched out and waved the door forcefully shut behind her.

Severus shook his head at the closed door. Minerva couldn't forgive him until he told Black the truth. He was tempted the longer they spent together. Sirius wasn't quite the spoiled arse he remembered and Severus was... fond of him.

The spy told himself it was self preservation. Get in good with the Gryffindors in case he was ever captured or outed. Severus didn't want to be alone in the midst of a war again.

But things were getting more personal. It was always hard to remember who he was before he put on the mask, both figurative and literal, and Severus wasn't sure how much the line between using Black and liking Black blurred.

Severus finally understood how Lily could love Potter.

November 3

Severus smirked internally when he heard Sirius curse and slam another cupboard door. The sound aggravated Black's pounding head and he moaned pathetically.

The Order were in the dining room, waiting for Severus and Molly to finish putting together breakfast. Sirius had wandered towards the sink in a daze, stumbled his way through making tea without noticing the others, and had started searching fruitlessly through the cupboards for the hair of the dog that utterly shagged him before spotting the spy stirring a cauldron of porridge. Molly had ducked into the pantry for eggs.

Sirius dropped his mug, wincing as the crash twinged painfully through his head. "What the hell are you doing here?" He barked.

Severus tapped the lip of the cauldron with his wooden spoon. "Helping Molly with breakfast." He replied evenly. Black scowled and, with visible effort, left without insulting the Potions Master. The Weasley Matron stepped out of the pantry with a basket of eggs in time to see the dog animagus disappear into the dining room.

"Picking fights already, Severus?" Molly asked, cracking a dozen eggs into a big bowl with a flick of her wand and spelling the whisk to beat the eggs vigorously. She continued without waiting for a reply. "Go on, sit down, I can handle the rest."

Severus obeyed immediately. He knew better than to argue with Molly Weasley. The Potions Master cleaned Black's fallen cup with a lazy gesture as he stepped over it and sat at the table between Minerva and Albus. Kreacher was serving tea, sneering at Sirius and wiggling his ears respectfully when Severus accepted a mug with a quiet thanks.

Remus was rubbing Sirius' shoulder comfortingly while the man groaned into the table. "Hey, Severus, do you have a Hangover potion on you?" He asked politely over his friend's noise.

"No, I don't." Severus answered a touch louder than he needed to. Minerva rolled her eyes at him.

Black lifted his head with difficulty. "Look, Snape, just give me a goddamn potion," he snarled lowly, glaring at the Potions Master through red eyes.

"I don't have a Hangover Potion on me, Black, I don't drink." Severus told him, annoyed. "I can give you some poison."

"Someone's in a mood. Bitter over your probation?" Black laughed mockingly. "What'd you do to get on Umbridge's bad side, anyway? 'Failure to perform'? Tried to flirt your way up to headmaster and made her sick?"

Minerva snorted and Severus glared at her. "Oh, no, no, Severus! I'm not- What did you say to her during dinner the other day?" By the twinkle in her eye, she had already guessed.

"I told her I would make her life a living hell if she touched me again." Severus said impassively and took a sip of his tea. The room fell silent.

"You didn't." Tonks sniggered. "No wonder you were put on probation, professor!"

"Severus, really," Albus scolded him with a well-hidden trace of amusement. "I asked all of the staff to be polite towards Dolores for the duration of her stay at Hogwarts."

"I would have been, if she had kept her hands to herself." Severus snapped. "Shall I lodge a complaint and wait two-to-three weeks for it to be officially burned in a wastebasket?" It reminded him sickeningly of Beatrix and the Dark Lord. Some people tried to snuggle up to power, and perhaps Umbridge had thought she would be safe from the Death Eaters if she was in the spy's good graces.

Just in case. Severus could understand it. It was still revolting.

"Perhaps we should start the meeting," Lupin suggested as Molly stepped in, levitating an enormous breakfast onto the table.

Hagrid began between massive mouthfuls of honeyed porridge. "Death Eaters' got th're first." He told them sadly. "The new chief's happy ter see 'em, but me 'n Maxime," he smiled slightly when he said her name, "we found the ol' chief's supports hol'd up in some caves. They seemed inter'sted, but the others must're seen us and clean'd out the caves when we'd gone. Weren't many survivors, an' none o' them wanted anythin' t'do with us after that." He finished with a sigh.

Moody went next. "Houndspaw was a success. Lupin got a minor wound on his hand," the old Auror nodded at the werewolf across the table, "no-one else injured. Three captured, one committed suicide in prison with a muggle poison. Snape?"

"Cyanide, most likely. Some of the higher ranking Death Eaters keep a pill spelled to the inside of their cheek in case they are captured." Severus briefly explained. He had laughed about that sometimes; he had a portkey tooth filling instead. Of course, it was only useful if there wasn't an anti-portkey ward set up.

"Would've been nice if you'd mentioned it before." Mad-Eye grumbled sourly. "The other two didn't tell us anything we didn't know already."

"Navan went well, though we did little." Shacklebolt chuckled. "That Cúchulainn fellow had killed four of them and knocked out another. Minerva and I captured two and the rest fled. No injuries on our part, though a metal bull was caught on fire and knocked some teeth out of our prisoners. The prisoners knew about a safe house in Dublin, but we had raided it a few weeks before. They didn't tell us anything else useful. Might've been they were chosen because they knew nothing."

Severus reluctantly began his report. "The Dark Lord knows what Cúchulainn and his wand look like, his age, and his nationality. I have found out nothing about the important and vague dark artifacts I was told to find," he looked balefully at Dumbledore. "The attack on Halloween was intended to capture or kill Cúchulainn, Lucius and Bellatrix were punished for the failure. A Muggle, male, bald, late forties, was executed."

Moody scowled. "Who killed him?"

"I did." Severus answered stonily.

"Oh, Severus, you didn't!" Molly gasped, horrified. The spy sipped his tea and didn't reply.

Albus cleared his throat, attracting the table's attention. "Severus and I have already spoken about this and I assure you, if something could have been done for the man, Severus would have done it." The headmaster said calmly. "If there is nothing else, Molly has prepared a wonderful breakfast for us."

"Severus, I'm sorry about earlier." Minerva murmured quietly to the spy. "If you need to talk to me, whenever, for whatever reason..."

"Thank you, Minerva, but I'm fine." He replied, trying not to feel annoyed over the offer.

Sirius had struggled into a proper sitting position and was mechanically chewing dry toast, eyes half-closed. "Cúchulainn and I are dating." He said casually. Severus dropped his tea cup into his lap.

"Congrats." Moody grunted through a mouthful of eggs. "Anything useful to add?"

"No, no, just wanted to brag." Black grinned, slightly more alive.

"Hmm. Then shut up."

"Have you asked Cúchulainn if you could tell everyone, Sirius?" She asked sternly, cleaning up her college's spilled tea with a quick scourgify.

"Yeah, we talked last night. He said he didn't care if I told the whole order." Black told her happily. Severus had seriously underestimated the man's ability to remember conversations while sloshed out of his skull. Well, maybe he could use this. The Order would trust him more.

"Good for you two." She commented dryly.

Severus excused himself after a few minutes of the Order's mindless chatter. He heard Black's chair scrape back loudly and sighed. He valued his pride too highly to run for the door and resigned himself to another fight.

"Snape, we need to talk." The dog animagus grabbed his arm and pulled him past the exit. When he was sure they were alone, he released the spy. "I don't think you're loyal to the Order." He spat.

"Not loyal?" Severus repeated in disbelief. "Black, I have killed for the blasted Order!" His voice rose with every word. "I have been tortured and abused, wasted years of my life for the goddamn Order!" The spy roared, something snapping inside at the accusation. "Not loyal? Have you considered what my life would be like if I wasn't a spy?"

Black quickly recovered. "You'd be a greasy no-body living in his mother's basement?" He guessed snidely.

"I was offered an apprenticeship with Nicolas Flamel, Black, his last apprentice, but I refused it because Dumbledore wanted me to protect Harry bloody Potter from you!" Severus balled his hands into trembling fists. Even so long after the fact, it was painful to entertain how things would have been if he could have gone. "I have given everything to the Order. What have you sacrificed? Your house?"

"I was in Azkaban for eleven years!" Sirius bellowed.

"You could have escaped at any time and you know it!" Severus countered. "Is that what Lily and Potter would have wanted you to do, lie down in a prison cell and wallow in self-pity without knowing what had become of your godson?" He had been expecting the punch this time and caught it with ease, twisting Black's arm up behind his shoulder. The spy rammed his knee into the back of Black's leg and pinned him to the ground. "You are incapable of growing up, aren't you?"

"I have grown up!" Sirius protested.

"Prove it," Severus hissed in his ear.

"I'm sorry for nearly killing you in fifth year!" Sirius yelled abruptly. The Potions Master released him.

"It's about bloody time," Severus grumbled to hide his surprise. He pulled the other wizard up by the back of his robes and brushed him off with a flick of his wand. "I forgive you."

"You- what?" Sirius gaped. The spy rolled his eyes dramatically. "I mean, you've been pissed about it for twenty years- really? Just like that?" Rather more than twenty years, now, and many, many people had made attempts on his life since.

"Yes, Black, just like that. It doesn't take much. Now if you'll excuse me..." Severus stepped around the stunned dog animagus and strode away.

That will be sure to drive Black crazy.

November 9

Cúchulainn stood over Sirius with a dark expression, arms folded over his chest. The other man wiggled in the kitchen chair uncomfortably.

"You said you wouldn't be angry if I told everyone." Black desperately pointed out. Cúchulainn raised an eyebrow. "We talked about it before I did it this time!" Sirius waited hopefully for a reassuring reply. "And- and I have nothing to be ashamed of." Cúchulainn's lip pulled into a reluctant, semi-annoyed smile and Sirius grinned in reply. He tugged the Irish wizard down onto a chair and kissed him. "Are we good?" Black asked optimistically.

Cúchulainn sighed, "We're good."

Sirius beamed. "Could we go out today? You know, a traditional date, dinner and a show and maybe the dog park?" He joked.

Severus opened his mouth to grumble out a yes when his arm twinged. He shut his mouth with a click and clenched his hands tightly for a moment before sighing, defeated. "We are good," he repeated reassuringly, unsuccessfully smothering a note of disappointment, "but I have to go and I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"You- what?" Sirius was worried now. "You aren't.. leaving?"

Severus met the other wizard's blue eyes briefly before looking away again. "I'll be back," he said hollowly, "but not today." The pain from the Mark was growing worse and he was beginning to sweat. The spy stood, dodging Black's attempt to grab his arm.

Cúchulainn didn't dare look back until the door swung shut behind him and he stood alone in the rain. He tilted his head back, watching the bruised yellow clouds scuttle across the polluted sky. Cúchulainn closed his eyes and Apparated as the door opened behind him a heartbeat too late.

"Approach, Severus." The Dark Lord ordered softly. The tip of his wand was visible peeking from his sleeve. The Potions Master's mouth went dry. He had been told to find the Augur months ago- had his master grown weary of his failure?

Snape's terror built with every inch. Some inner alarm rang so hard it nearly vibrated his bones. Voldemort wouldn't put up with a single useless word now.

It didn't seem fair. He couldn't die now, not after coming so far, not after telling Black he'd come back.

"What have you to report, my spy?"

Severus swallowed with difficulty, black eyes fixed on the wand tip. He was going to die. Something occurred to the Professor looking at Voldemort's threatening sleeve; he couldn't set up a trap, but he could spring one. "I have discovered Cúchulainn's location, my lord." He rasped. Voldemort's inhumane face split into an approving smile and he gestured for him to continue. "He frequents the Hill of Tara in County Meath. A member of the Order was sent there near the end of summer."

Voldemort folded his hands and straightened, head tilted thoughtfully. "Thank you, Severus. I never lost faith in you." He waved for Snape to rejoin the relative safety of the assembled Death Eaters. He didn't dare breath again until he was hidden from sight among the comparatively comforting press of the other robes. The Potions Master thanked the blank masks because he wasn't sure how impassive he could keep his face at that moment.

How many close calls would he have left? Severus had to deal finish what he came back for soon.

"Crabbe, Goyle, Gibbon." The Dark Lord called his servants forwards. "A word. The rest are dismissed."

Severus retreated without being detained. The three Voldemort had called on where not clever, but they were loyal.

What mattered was that they weren't terribly powerful either. The Dark Lord either intended to test Cúchulainn with men whose captures or deaths wouldn't impact him greatly, or more likely, Voldemort was certain he could defeat the Irish wizard alone.

It didn't matter. Severus didn't intend to report this particular conversation to the Order. Cúchulainn had to be at the Hill of Tara, and he had to be alone, or the Dark Lord would turn his wand again on his spy.

November 16th

The spy had been on edge all week. His wards would tell him when Voldemort approached the Hill of Tara, but they hadn't chimed at all. Had the Dark Lord dismantled them without him noticing? Severus doubted it, but Voldemort could not be underestimated.

Severus had expected the attack at night, to better fit Voldemort's flare for theatrics, but it was Sunday morning when the alarms rang.

Cúchulainn cursed, long and low and darkly. His hand was on the door to HQ.

He couldn't put it off. The Dark Lord had to see Cúchulainn, even if it was only for a moment.

The spy glared at the door and vanished. He didn't intend to be gone long.

Cúchulainn landed with his wand at hand, whirling in place. He didn't see anyone on the Hill.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as a brutish growl reached his ears. Something slunk along the long grass, yellow eyes glowing.

Fenrir Greyback. Two nights off the full moon and still full of vim and vinegar. The Irish wizard hadn't been expecting to see him.

The werewolf leaped towards Cúchulainn and was sent flying with a slash of his wand. He couldn't leave until he had seen-

The spy dropped to the ground without conscious thought as a flash of green light streamed over his head, leaving his skin numb. He had missed death by a hair. Greyback's renewed snarling and snapping reminded Cúchulainn that there was more than one enemy.

He rolled to his feet again and cast instinctively at Greyback as he rushed him again. "Tesuriit!" The green lawn of the Hill sucked Greyback greedily down into the earth. The struggling werewolf was buried up to his tipped ears. Cúchulainn hoped mercilessly that he suffocated.

Ribbons of green streamed over the long grass and made the Irish wizard sweat as he conjured a storm of panicking white birds. He knew the three death eaters were hiding somewhere in that direction, spitting death at him while Voldemort-

That was enough! "Faigh dom an ifreann as anseo!" Cúchulainn shouted quickly. His ring gleamed and the portkey yanked him away.

The spy landed in the Black Forest and immediately Apparated to a random landing. He jumped from place to place until he was sure he couldn't be followed.

Voldemort had been setting up an anti-portkey ward. Severus knew it in his bones. That had been far too close.

αλκοόλειςνερό is, vaguely, alcohol to water in greek. Tesuriit is from terra, latin for earth, and esuriit, meaning 'hungry'.

Sorry I was gone so long. Personal stuff that doesn't really matter and is ongoing so I won't be writing much.

Star, if you read this and see any problems with my Irish, go ahead and tell me please. I'm using Google Translate. And no, the way I write Cúchulainn is not up for debate. :T