Death Whispers

Chapter One - The Black Folder

Dumbledore's Office, November 5th 1981

Dumbledore looked over his teacup and into the dark, haunted eyes of Severus Snape. Severus stared him down.

"Sherbet Lemon?" the headmaster offered, reaching over his desk with the small tin of Muggle sweets.

Severus jerked his head, and rolled his eyes at the headmaster. This could have been an act of defiance or resentment but both men knew better. Severus was nervous sitting in the headmaster's office - it was just a week after the baby Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord, and his fate still remained undecided.

Severus breathed uncomfortably; the air around him was restricting and borrowed. He owed his life to the old man in front of him. The powerful wizard had protected him thus far from Azkaban. The political climate at the present time was disorder as the Wizarding World tried to reestablish its government. All throughout Europe people were waking up from trances, or going insane. It was a difficult time for everyone, more so, for a lost soul like Severus Snape.

Severus resented the headmaster's naivete; the old man expected everything to be easily fixed with love and a lemon drop. Does Dumbledore expect that now everything will just go back to normal? Severus thought angrily.

Dumbledore leaned over to touch Severus's hand ignoring his long silvery beard as it fell into his tea. It was as if the headmaster could read his mind, the gentle touch soothing the younger mans uneasy thoughts. Severus gave in and looked up at the headmaster.

"You will stay here," Dumbledore said, welcoming him. "It is not safe for you at this time, there are still Death Eaters about who wish you harm. While some people on our side who still doubt your loyalty."

Severus' face betrayed nothing, yet his eyes shone with dissent. Some? he thought with a mental snort, the only one crazy enough to not doubt my loyalty, is you! He steadied his glare at the headmaster's eyes and thought to himself with a hint of self-deprecation, I even doubt it.

"You have done enough for me already," Severus said expressionlessly.

"We still need your help Severus, it would not be charity," Dumbledore explained, worried that Severus was concerned about his pride.

Severus expected Dumbledore to think that, and it was true he was a proud man who did not accept charity. In truth, he couldn't bear it here, but it had little to do with his pride. That had been all but destroyed when he came to Dumbledore for help in the first place. Now he was in a position worse than accepting charity - he was in debt. The air was so tight it was choking him. He raised a long thin finger to his high collar and loosened it nervously.

"What do you need me to do?" Severus asked bitterly.

"Continuing teaching," Dumbledore responded, "this is a school after all."

Severus laughed; it was cruel and hollow and didn't belong in the warm red and gold surroundings of Dumbledore's office.

"A named Death Eater? If you want me teaching at Hogwarts, Professor, you have gone mad," Severus said quickly.

"Ex Death Eater, Severus," Dumbledore added, "you are not one of them." His calm blue eyes proof that he was indeed very serious, "besides, there are still issues concerning Voldemort's downfall. We'll need your testimony, your expertise, and," the headmaster paused to smile sincerely, "to keep you safe."

The room was silent. Both men were deep in thought - Severus unmoving and tense, Dumbledore twiddling his thumbs and gazing away at a blank spot on the wall. You could practically hear brains ticking in thinking music. A few minutes passed in silence.

Severus coughed nervously, collecting his breath. The phoenix that sat beside Dumbledore turned to look at him when the room snapped with sound again.

"I guess I have no other choice," he said finally, and he really didn't.

Dumbledore looked up and smiled kindly toward him. The headmaster looked relieved, as if he knew it was going to be difficult however his eyes twinkled again with a happy knowledge of what was to come. Severus comparatively looked vacant, lost, and unresolved.

"Fantastic," Dumbledore smiled, leaning back in his chair and ringing tea out of his beard. The room's tension had all but disappeared. "Well, let's get down to business shall we? You will, of course, continue teaching Potions, for you are by far over qualified for the position and it is now permanently vacant...." he digressed.

They both knew that the previous Potion Master had fallen in the war. Labour shortages were another problem; Severus would have been able to find a job, as he was perhaps the most skilled Potions Master in Britain, if it weren't for the fact most people would be reluctant to hire a suspected Death Eater.

"Classes should be no problem Severus so you won't have to worry, I'll give you a free rein on the syllabus," he offered brightly, then hastily added, "within reason."

Severus nodded, listening intently. However, he was far too tired to ingest the information and eager to retreat to his dungeons. During the last half of the war, he had often escaped to the privacy of the Hogwarts dungeons, and he had come to think of them as his own. Taken in as a student teacher, he played the role of a spy, a double agent. Working for Dumbledore and providing him with information, working for Voldemort and providing him information. It was difficult to remember which side you were actually playing for.

"One other thing is this," Dumbledore said, as he opened his top drawer and shuffled through papers. He lifted out a small box.

"What is it?" asked Severus, drawn into the conversation by the item, Dumbledore handed it over. Severus opened it gently.

"Aurors found this last night," Dumbledore explained, "in Algernon Rookwood's office." Severus nodded pulling out pieces of burnt parchment. Some were in good condition, while others were nearly all but destroyed.

"He was in charge of research, so these must be plans of some sort," Severus said, looking through the papers. The ones that were the least damaged were written in code.

"You don't know the code?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, but surely Emmeline Vance could crack it," he said. Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "What else did you find?"

"Rookwood burnt everything in his office, he managed to fire off a dark mark before erasing his memory. He's been at St. Mungo's but they can't help him. Another dead end, all that was left is in that box. And this," Dumbledore said, and he pulled the last thing from the top of his drawer; a shiny black folder, locked by The Dark Mark. Dumbledore slid it across the desk.

Severus pushed the parchments back into the box and then looked up. His face turned a sickly white, as if the serpent had come up and bit him.

"The Auror's couldn't open that folder," Dumbledore explained, "I was hoping you'd be able to do it for them. You'll see it's marked S.S down the bottom," he looked at Severus, he noticed his horror.

Severus Snape had a great amount of self-control. Being a double agent would have ended him otherwise. He was a man who had complete control over every action; a blink, a slight shift in posture, could reveal his deepest secrets. If you didn't look closely, you'd miss the man entirely. He could be powerful or persuasive at the drop of a hat. Retain a neutral appearance as his watched murder or rape, in fact, his expressionless face was famous for it. So Dumbledore was shocked when he saw Severus swing back from the folder uncertainly.

Shit, Severus thought. He gripped the desk with his hand, he'd never thought he'd see this again.

"I see you recognise it, it is yours then?" Dumbledore asked, and chuckled, trying to keep the mood light, "I expected as much. It was most complicated, no one else could open it."

"You have to be in the Silver Circle," Severus explained, "Rookwood couldn't have opened it, and I don't know what he was doing with it." Severus had put the rest of the box down and was gripping the folder tightly.

"Well if you would just open it for me then," Dumbledore urged gently.

Severus was thinking quickly, "I'll actually have to take it with me, there may be a variety of other spells. It could take a while to crack. I have to find out which potion will neutralize the charm." He rambled.

"You charmed it!" exclaimed Dumbledore, and then he quickly composed himself. He wanted to remind Severus that it was Ministry Property and he could open it right here. However, he knew he had to trust him.

"It was some time ago," Severus continued softly, his voice taking on it's usual silky tone, all the while clutching the folder closer to his chest, "I'll have to check with my records. After all, I was always very thorough and I expect there are some pretty nasty hexes on this." His explanation was uttered a little too quickly. As if to cover his tracks, he reassuringly said, "I'll have it back to the Ministry by tomorrow morning." Dumbledore, with no other alternative, nodded.

"Okay then, I hope that you come to regard this castle as your home. We are a family here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore comforted Severus, trying to reach out to the abyss that was the young man in front of him.

Severus nodded rapidly in agreement, jumped from the seat as if it had burnt him and nervously retreated to the door. He stopped in the frame and turned back. "Thank you, Albus," he muttered. Before the headmaster could reply, he was gone.

*****

Sweeping down the Hogwarts hallway, the tall man walked, gripped with fear. Clutching the folder tightly to his chest, his white knuckles shook and his chest heaved. Black robes billowing out behind him, he made sharp turns down passages to avoid anyone who might have been in the castle.