"I must, once again, ask too much of you, Severus."

Severus gave a sneer to Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the man had always asked entirely too much of him, but, he also knew that he owed the man for standing up for him at the Death Eater trials, so long ago. "All right, old man," he said with a small huff; there was, really, no way to get out of his latest mission. "What would you have me do, and why did you have me pack necessary belongings?" he asked, gesturing to his suitcase beside him, battered and ratty as it was.

"Remus has agreed to come on for another year as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, while Horace Slughorn will be taking over your post as potions master," the headmaster explained genially to one of his most loyal employees and friends, although the twinkle in his eyes was certainly less than it typically was.

"And the potion for your hand?" Severus asked, staring down at the withered thing that the headmaster currently boasted. "Why did you have to put on that blasted ring, Albus, when you knew of the potential consequences?"

"You know as well as I do how much the hunger of power can sway a person, Severus," Albus told him patiently.

Severus, obviously, had no response for that.

"How much did you say you made, then? Of the potion," Albus clarified.

"Enough to last throughout the summer," Severus informed him.

"And, with proper instruction, although he is not a master, do you trust Horace, or anyone else, for that matter, to make it?" Albus asked him.

"Horace can make it," Severus allowed, and although he knew he had always disliked the man, and knew his methods of teaching left a lot to be desired, he was certainly more than competent in his field.

"Excellent, Severus," Albus said, smiling up at him. "So, how that Defense and your potions classes have been sorted, I can explain the mission to you." He hesitated for a moment, and watched as the man hovered over him. "You had better sit down."

Severus sighed, but nevertheless sat down in the offered chair. "Very well, Albus. Explain to me what must be done."

"Sirius has finally brought news of the boy," Albus explained.

Severus nearly fell out of his chair. "And you believe this a credible source? Black?"

"Now, Severus," Albus said, scolding him lightly. "Ever since we imprisoned Pettigrew in Azkaban and got Sirius out, he has been nothing but kind to you, and even apologized right away. Why can you not get on with him as you do with Remus?"

"Because Remus was filled with the madness of the wolf at the time, whereas Black executed a plan to execute me," Severus growled back. "Am I to assume Horace is to be brewing Remus's Wolfsbane as well?"

"Yes, Horace has agreed to it," Albus informed him.

Severus huffed. "So, what has Black said of the boy?" he asked. "Or, rather, young man now, as he turned sixteen this past summer."

"Yes, yes, Harry is a young man," Albus said, nodding. "Well, his cousin, Dudley, finally coughed up some information, after hearing about the location in geography class at school. It apparently triggered a memory of where they sent Harry."

Severus blinked. "You would think that the Dursleys would have coughed up the location long ago," he said softly. "I hear that their conditions in the HM Prisons have not been...savory," he said, a curl to his lip.

"Most societies take buying and selling children quite seriously, Severus," Albus informed him carefully. "As I'm sure you would agree."

"So, what is the news about Harry, then?" Severus wanted to know.

"Ah, yes," Albus said, snapping his fingers, and a faded map appeared between the two of them upon the headmaster's desk, and Severus noted that it was a map of the Swiss Alps. "He was put into the care via the adoption agency, and I use the term lightly, of Samuel and Mylene Hofmeister," he explained, and pointed to a region in the Alps themselves.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "He would have been attending Beauxbatons, then, as the Hofmeister's are Purebloods," he mused. "Why were we not informed of this earlier?"

"Because a Blood Adoption was utilized, and you know how powerful and potent they can be, when brewed by the right potions master, Severus," Albus said gravely.

Severus gritted his teeth; he did indeed know. "So, he is being educated at Beauxbatons, then, or was it a more private tuition?" he asked, knowing entirely well that Samuel Hofmeister was a champion duelist, while Mylene was an expert Herbologist, and the pair could have easily hired the extra tutors for Harry, if need be.

"Harry appears to have been educated at home," Albus informed him softly. "He got full marks on his VULTUREs," he said.

Severus swallowed; they VULTUREs were the Beauxbatons, and all the neighboring regions', equivalent of the OWLs, and stood for Very Unsettling Literary and Trying Ubiquitous Referrals Essentials. It was a rough translation, he understood, and, apparently, sounded so much better in the French language. "All Os, then?" he found himself asking.

"Naturally," Albus responded. "Apparently, he is quite good in Defense, but his natural prowess seems to be in potions, of all things."

"I assume he learnt the language in primary school?" Severus asked.

"According to Sirius's source, yes. Harry is fluent in Swiss, English, and French, and is quite proficient in Latin."

"He would have to do, to get the spells right," Severus agreed gruffly. "Who is Blacks' source, then?"

"One of the tutors his adopted family hired for him," Albus said softly. "Apparently, they got Alastor to be his Defense instructor."

Severus's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. "And Alastor didn't feel the need to inform us of such a thing?"

"His final potions examination was to brew a Polyjuice Potion, and his instructor informed Alastor of one of the ingredients counteracting with one belonging to the Blood Adoption," came the headmaster's patient reply.

"The hair," Severus said, knowing that DNA could counteract any potion with that particular ingredient within it.

"Precisely," Albus said.

"And I am to assume that Harry brewed it correctly, then, given the result?" Severus asked.

"Given his O, I'd say so," Albus said, knowing that Severus didn't really require an answer, due to his being a potion master himself.

"So, Harry knows of his Blood Adoption, then?"

"Yes, but Alastor made up an excuse to take him for some extra training, and so they went higher up into the mountains," Albus explained. "He is in his keeping there, at a safe house, and awaiting your arrival."

Severus pursed his lips. "Well, what do you need me for?" he asked. "Cannot Black simply drop everything and perform this rescue mission, or Moody?"

"Sirius has taken over Care of Magical Creatures this year, while Hagrid has gone to France to be with Olympe for the foreseeable future," Albus told him. "I believe the pair of them have mended their differences, since they got the giants over to our side, and have decided to make a go of their feelings for one another in an official capacity."

"And Moody?" Severus asked.

"Alastor is still acting as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic," Albus told Severus carefully, "and so he cannot be there all the time."

"And you truly think that leaving Harry, on his own, without proper safety and care, after years of being lied to, especially about what he is, was seen as a smart move?!" Severus demanded, his voice shaking.

"We have done our best, but Moody is currently tracking down Riddle," Albus said patiently, not rising to Severus's ire. "You know as well as I do that after Pettigrew's botched attempt to bring him back one year previously is what landed him in Azkaban, and Riddle back into hiding."

"The only thing I can say about the matter is that there was enough to release Black years beforehand," Severus allowed, "but that still does not excuse your planning." He sighed; due to his defection from Riddle in 1981, his Dark Mark had faded, and he had not seen the man since then, due to his summons not happening. "Who does Moody believe is looking after Riddle? As far as I remember from Pettigrew's memories, he appeared to be little more than a child, and all the weaknesses that entails."

"Barty Crouch Jr. is looking after him, after his escape from Azkaban," Albus said. "Winky has been seen slipping into Slugs and Jiggers to get potions to keep up Riddle's strength. As I am sure you remember, Barty Crouch Jr. was no expert brewer."

"I do recall that, yes," Severus said quietly. "And why has the elf not been apprehended, and forced to talk?"

"Winky could not willingly go against her master, Severus, and you know entirely well that Veritaserum would not work on a house-elf," Albus replied. "As for tracking her, she has a blockage on her Apparitions, due to her loyalty to Crouch Jr., and the only way to break that is to break her loyalty from him, which we have been attempting to do..."

"But without success," Severus replied grimly. He rubbed his temples, a fire lit inside him since he now knew that Harry was not only alive, but now within reach. "Please tell me that there are protective enchantments on the safe house, and that his adopted...parents," he said, sneering the word, "do not know of its location."

"The protective enchantments were done by Alastor himself, with Kingsley's help," Albus told him, just a bit gleefully. "And as for his parents, no, they don't know. Samuel is at the Summer Dueling Championships in Portugal, while Mylene is attending the Solstice Herbology Conference in India."

"Gives us some time, then," Severus mused, as both events lasted eight weeks. "You know as well as I do that International Apparition is damn near impossible, Albus, and I am unsure I have enough reserves to do it... Your potion," he said, nodding towards Albus's withered hand, "does take a lot out of me, you know."

Albus smiled, pleased to have gotten his way, and reached into the drawer of his desk, all beneath Fawkes', and Severus's, watchful eye, and pulled out a battered and broken Cuckoo Clock, much to Severus's annoyance. "This will act as your Portkey," he explained, and turned to his old familiar. "Fawkes, you remember the plan?"

Fawkes trilled happily, and swooped down onto the desk.

Severus sighed, reaching out his hand to pet the phoenix, who immediately bent his head and shut his eyes at the treatment; for all his darkness and outward cruelty, Severus did have a soft spot for the bird. "What plan, Albus?"

"In case anything goes wrong," Albus said, summoning a parcel and waiting for Severus to catch it, "Fawkes will be going with you."

Severus fingered the parcel which had been deposited in his hands. "I hardly need..."

"Fawkes has also informed me that he would be willing to give you any of his tears that you need for your potions, Severus," Albus continued, and Fawkes trilled once again, albeit softer this time around.

Severus grimaced; despite everything, phoenix tears were mightily expensive, so it would definitely bring an improvement to all his potions if such a thing was allowed. "Albus..."

"And, I have drawn up my will, and Fawkes has agreed to bond with you upon the occasion of my death," Albus said, and Fawkes gently butted Severus's hand, clearly wanting to be pet some more, which Severus allowed. "Minerva has consented to becoming headmistress, naturally, and has a mind to make you her deputy, if you consent..."

"But, Albus..."

"You will, of course, continue to be Head of Slytherin and potions master, once Horace coughs up that evasive memory of his," Albus said with a chuckle, "and when you return from the Alps with Harry in tow."

"Albus, I..."

"Now, now," Albus said, holding up his non-cursed hand, "it has been decided. Please tell me that it is all agreeable to you."

Severus lowered his eyes. "You know what I am, what Harry is, and I... I cannot..."

"Nor do I expect you to, my boy," Albus said gently. "If you truly believe it to be so, then I will not stop you. And the law will be on your side as well, you know that."

Severus bit down hard on his lower lip. "Right," he said softly.

"Custody has been granted to the Weasley family in the interim, for he is under seventeen, and that is if what you want to happen does not take place at all, or right away," Albus explained, and Severus nodded in understanding. "Now," he went on, "please. Open your gift."

Severus gently tore at the parcel—he noted that it was Slytherin green and done up in an eye-catching, silver ribbon—and looked inside. It was a new winter cloak, due to him going to the Swiss Alps, done up in black velvet and black fur. "What is...?"

"Wolf fur," Albus explained. "Don't worry, we merely shaved the thing. Wizarding wolves are different than Muggle ones, you know, and much softer than their counterparts."

Severus nodded, touching the cloak, and felt something harder beneath it. Moving the cloak to one side, he saw a pair of black snow boots. "Albus..."

"Ah, ah, my boy, nothing is too much for you," Albus told him gently. "You must learn to be kinder to yourself, and with this mission..." He snapped his fingers, and a scarf of Slytherin green flew towards Severus, with a pair of matching gloves along with it. "Think of these as another parting gift."

Severus fingered the stitches. "Did you...?"

Albus chuckled. "Molly Weasley sent them over," he informed him. "Her exact words to me were, 'Bring our boy back'."

Severus sighed. "Perhaps she will be disappointed, if things do not go her way..."

"Due to Bill's romance with young Fleur Delacour, Severus, I think Molly would understand completely," Albus told him gently.

Severus got to his feet, putting on the cloak, boots, scarf, and gloves. "Well, then," he said, as he pulled the hood up, and gathered his suitcase, "shall we go, then?"

Fawkes trilled a third time, and swooped so that he landed upon Severus's arm, and Severus waited for the Cuckoo clock to be handed over.

"Fawkes will bring the three of you home," Albus told him. "Now, have you got everything? Are you ready?"

Severus sighed. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready," he admitted, before he whispered to the clock, "Portus," and the clock glowed to life, popping them out of existence.