leaned forward and patted him on the hand.
Harry's bluster left him. "Thank you," he whispered to Lupin.
"If you get killed, Harry, I won't forgive you."
"I won't get killed," Harry promised fervently.
Moody grunted. "Albus, your missing students are the lead we' ve been waiting for. We'll take the parents in for questioning, get some background on Zabini and Goyle"
"What about Draco?" Ginny asked. She was perplexed that hardly any mention had been made of him.
"What about him?" Moody's magical eye swivelled to where Ginny sat. The force of his milky blue stare made her squirm. "I' m guessing he' s turned. Pure and simple. No offence to your judgment, Lupin," Moody inclined his scarred head to the Defence Professor, "but the boy's a bad seed. And he's on the list."
"Do not forget that the list is an exercise in Ministry politics, Alastor,"
Dumbledore reminded in a near hiss. Harry was struck by just how involved Arthur Weasley was in the day to day running of Hogwarts. It had to be driving Dumbledore up the wall.
"The list is proving accurate so far," Moody reminded.
Ron walked into the room then, looking more dejected than Harry had ever seen him. He paused when confronted with the tangible tension in the air and then cleared his throat.
"Dad's on his way," he told the Headmaster, with immense gravity. "They' ve just finished sending for the Goyles and the Zabinis. We'rewell we're undecided on what to tell Hermione's parents."
"We must tell them something!" McGonagall insisted. "The girl is due back home tomorrow morning!"
Dumbledore walked back around his desk and sat down heavily. "Leave the Grangers to me. In the meantime, we will await Severus and Miss Parkinson. I expect news that will assist our investigation."
**
Snape stood in front of the fireplace, a slight frown on his face. His long-fingered hands were curled into tight fists. His grip was particularly tight in his right hand, where he held the golden key that had been secreted away in his desk for the past three years.
The metal collected the warmth of his body until it seemed to sear his palm. It was all in his mind, of course.
That was part of the magic. Powerful magic took belief to function. Belief in the words, belief in the effect. He held onto the dark device, glad to be reminded of the many unseemly things he had left behind in a past life.
Pansy sat on the lounge in the adjoining room. She was catatonic for the moment, but the after-effects of Veritaserum would wear off very shortly. There wasn' t much time before he brought her to Dumbledore with the information he had retrieved, albeit forcefully.
The girl' s stubbornness was the result of a promise made to Draco. That the boy could inspire such devotion was not a complete surprise. What was a surprise was that she was very much in love with his troubled godson. He was slipping in his old age, Snape decided, to have missed that.
The Floo connection crackled, the fire intensified. Snape was now staring at the familiar old house elf who had never been able to pronounce his name.
"Toolip will fetch Master Lucius at once," said the creature, calmly and she was off at a brisk hobble.
Lucius appeared within minutes, fully dressed in an immaculate set of robes the colour of a night-time sea. It was a definite improvement on the silk dressing gowns which had become his usual attire, no matter the time of day.
He had run to the fire. Snape could tell from his heightened colour. Either that or he'd been drinking again. It didn't seem likely this time, though. Lucius Malfoy's quicksilver eyes were clear today, thank the heavens.
They darkened however, when he observed Snape's expression.
"What's the matter? Is it Draco?" he immediately asked.
Snape didn' t need to break it to him gently. Lucius was used to hearing very bad news very quickly.
"Your son has run off to rescue Gregory Goyle from becoming a Death Eater. The Recruiter has also been identified."
"He did WHAT?!" Lucius bellowed. The flames flared before settling once again within the fireplace.
Faced with Lucius' fury, a lesser man might have quailed. Snape had seen worse, however.
On occasion, he was worse.
"You heard me."
"Goyle' s son! I can' t say it wasn' t fated." Lucius' eyes narrowed into silver slits. "Who is the Recruiter?"
"Anton's boy."
Lucius actually brought his hand to his mouth and gasped. It would have been a comical sight, if the situation wasn't so horrendous.