Back in the Corridor Asriel remained motionless a deeply concerned Madison by his side. Madison, startled, stared for a moment. Leaning forward, she shook him again, gently tapping his face. "Come on...wake up..." She looked around. "Help!" she called out, hoping someone would hear.

"Mon Dieu!" Niki comes running down the hallway, a trifle out of breath. "I heard you call, Madison..." Her voice trails off, and she begins to look a bit uncomfortable. "What is it? Who is it? What's going on?"

"It's Asriel..." Madison replied, glad to see another face. "He's....There's something wrong with him...We should get him to Madame Pomfrey...Or Dumbledore...I can't get him to wake up..."

"Asriel? Who is Asriel? I don't know of anyone named that..." She stares down at him. Pulling out her wand, she points it at him. "Enervate," she mutters, and watches for him to regain consciousness. Niki kneels beside him, staring fixedly at him. "What's this amulet thing?"

"Don't touch it!" Madison said quickly. "I don't know what it is...Just...don't touch it..." She stared at the boy. "This is Asriel...new here, I guess. I don't think I've ever met him before..." she trailed off, uncertain. "But he knew me...asked for my help..." She turned back to Niki. "What do we do?"

"He knew you, but he's new here... That's very strange..." Niki twirls a lock of her hair between her fingers. "He doesn't seem to be coming around. Shall we try to bring him to Madam Pomfrey?"

Madison nodded. "Yeah...We can't just leave him here. Let's try to get him to the infirmary..." She searched her pockets. "Oh, no...I left my wand in my bookbag in the hallway..."

"Go get it," Niki suggests. "I'll wait here with him, in case he comes to..."

Madison thought for a moment. "Why don't you start off with him...I'll catch up when I've got my stuff. I'll meet you down there..."

Niki nods. "Okay... I'm pretty sure I know that way." She hooks her arms under Asriel's, and begins to drag him down the hallway. "Wait..." She pulls out her wand, and points her wand at him. Wingardium leviosa," she murmurs, and he floats up a few feet above the ground, with Niki steering.

In a split second, Asriel's eyes open wide. He looks surprised and offguard. "Take off the am….!" he says screaming. Going into a series of paroxysms, he tries to talk to the girls. "Take of the," but that was all he could get out. "No!" he screams again. "Don't you..."

Niki screams in surprise, her concentration breaking, and Asriel's body drops to the ground. Dropping to her knees, she peers into his face. "The amulet?" she whispers, and reaches out for it. Recoiling with a curse, she sucks her fingers. "What is it?" she asks, staring at him. She slaps his face trying to bring him out of his faint, but seems unsuccessful. Wrapping part of her robe around her hand, she reaches for it again.

Madison caught up with her just as she reached for it. "What are you doing?" she asked. "What happened?" She glanced at the unconscious boy, then, pulling out her wand, dropped her bulging bookbag on the ground. "Okay..." she said, aiming her wand. "Go for it..."

"He came to and started talking to me, and it really startled me. He said to take of the amulet, I think," Niki explains. She glances uncomfortably at Madison. "Umm... If you don't mind, Madison, I'll use my wand and you can take off the amulet?" She pulls her wand out of her sleeve, and aims it at Asriel, trying to will Madison to put away her wand. When she does, Niki heaves an audible sigh of relief.

************

Nimue comes into dinner very late looking somewhat distracted. She sits near to Yvette and helps herself to food then eats without much enthusiasm.

She looks around at the Ravenclaw table often to see if there is any sign of Kat Black's return.

Even later than Nimue, close to the end of dinner, Anders Grimalkin wandered into the Great Hall, looking a little red around the eyes, as if he'd either had another coughing fit, or had been crying. From the way he was walking a little unsteadily, it was most likely the first.

He sat down in his seat at the staff table in silence, his eyes somewhat glassy as he stared down at his plate. He should eat, he knew that, but for some reason, he had no appetite at all. When he was fairly sure nobody was watching him, he reached into the pocket of his robe and took a pull at the contents of a small flask, putting it back into his robes again when he was done.

He ate three or four mouthfuls of dinner, before shoving the plate away from him again, pushing his seat back and, muttering something to his fellow teachers, walked in a slightly wavy line down past the student tables and out the room.

Some of the older girls at the Gryffindor table made a few 'racy' remarks about their hopes that the handsome young Professor might lose his balance on his way out and fall into their arms, causing Nimue to pay even greater attention to her plate to ignore them as well as him somewhat studiously

She thought it very likely he had been feeling ill again but thought it best after her words to Marcus that she not embarrass herself by enquiring after him. However, when she next looked up Marcus was following Anders out of the hall - bringing another round of remarks from the older girls. She was happy that Marcus was concerned about the Professor.

Marcus quickly caught up with Professor Grimalkin. "Anders - are you all right?" he said with some concern at the other man's erratic behaviour.

Anders turned at Marcus' arrival, his eyes red and bloodshot, his whole body shaking. "M-marcus..." He stammered. "I th-think I may have been outside for too l-long in the night air," he said between chattering teeth. Just...need to g-go rest...but I never found out where my room was..."

He began to cough again, and pulled the flask out of his pocket again, sipping again at the contents. This seemed to settle him down. "My cough potion," he said, watching Marcus' eyes on him. "Helps."

He could feel his knees threatening to buckle underneath him. "I have to lie down soon, before I fall down," he said, wretchedly. "I should never have sat outside for so long...but I couldn't come back in either..." He seemed very confused and fevered, disoriented and shaken by something.

Marcus helped Anders into a room along the corridor that served the teachers as an after-dinner lounge. The door was passworded to keep students out but Marcus had been given access.

"I dare say you should have come in much sooner if you were feeling unwell. I assumed that you must have been settling in since we parted. On an evening like this what in earth possessed you?" He didn't wait for an answer.

"I probably should call for Professor Snape to see about getting you something to help you with this though I know there is no love lost between you two so better perhaps Madame Pomfrey should be summoned as you've probably caught pneumonia by the sound of it."

Anders sank gratefully into one of the comfortable chairs that lined the walls of the lounge and barely seemed capable of understanding Marcus' words. Occasionally a violent tremble would run through his body, and he gripped the arms of the chair tightly, hoping to somehow control himself.

When Marcus suggested Snape and he didn't protest, he knew he wasn't well. He nodded his head, reluctantly.

Marcus could not leave Anders in this state to fetch Snape. He clutched a pendant he wore around his neck and apparently used it to send a summons to someone.

A minute or so later there was a quiet knock at the door and Marcus answered it. Nimue stood there with some concern on her face. "Marcus, what's wrong?"

"Is Professor Snape still in the Great Hall?" he asked.

"No, he left a few minutes ago." she replied. Marcus looked annoyed at this news. He took a moment to ponder what he should do.

"Professor Grimalkin has been taken seriously ill. I cannot leave him alone like this and I need to find Snape and possibly Madame Pomfrey very quickly." He looked annoyed at having to make this particular decision.

"Nimue, you stay here. Watch him but do not do anything unless he gets worse. I will be back with assistance in as brief a period of time as it takes. Use your pendant to communicate with me if necessary."

He exited shooting a warning look at Anders which threatened deeper trouble should he take any advantage of this situation.

After the events of the day this was not a situation Nimue wanted to find herself in. She felt that Marcus had done this deliberately looking to find flaws with her earlier assurances of innocence.

Thus, she said to Anders: "Don't worry he'll be back with proper assistance in just a minute."

Anders simply stared at Nimue, seemingly not recognising her. His body was shaking with the chills that were eating at him from within, but there was an unnatural heat radiating from his body. "I'll be...OK...just need to rest...can't miss first DADA lesson..."

His sentences were disjointed and a little slurred, almost as if he had been drinking. He fixed Nimue with a watery gaze. "Can't miss...that..."

He took several deep breaths, but this only served to make him cough harder. "I...hate...this," he said between clenched teeth. "Hate being...so weak..." His eyes met hers again and there was a peculiar mix of physical and mental anguish there. "I'm sorry," was all he said.

He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He was fairly certain that this was just an over-effect of being outside for too long in his frail state, and not a recurrence of the pneumonia that had struck him down whilst he'd been in That Place. He'd been feeling so intense earlier that he simply hadn't noticed. He just needed a hot drink and a good, long, sleep, but hadn't had the energy, or the will, to argue with Marcus.

Opening his eyes a crack, he watched Nimue wordlessly. "Now you see?" He said, softly. "I'm no use to anyone. Like I told you." A single tear defiantly crept out from under his eyelid and slid down his pale cheek and he turned his head away from her, angry at himself.

This was not a situation Nimue had expected to find herself in and she was struggling against her innate sense of kindness and protection to try to help the young Professor over about dozens of other prohibitions and common sense as to why she should remain exactly where she was and do as she'd been told. However, he seemed to be in such a bad way that her instinct to help overrode any caution or sense of self-preservation. She could deal with Marcus if necessary.

He didn't seem to recognise her anyway. "You'll be fine for tomorrow." She hoped she sounded more convincing that she felt. She crossed to where he was sitting brushing away with a gesture his self-doubt over his lack of use to anyone. "Here take my hand. Draw on my strength." She took his hand anyway whether he wanted her to or not.

It was a risk and she knew it but she had confidence in the innate magic at the core of every witch and wizard and knew at that moment she had a healing touch that was more powerful than any potion or ritual and might help to restore him to some sort of normality.

She hoped for everyone's sake that this gesture wasn't going to be misinterpreted by anyone. In this moment she was just a conduit for the forces of nature and she tried to make her touch as impersonal as she could, closing her eyes focusing on the image of a garden bursting with life and soothing smells and images. In the centre of the garden was a fountain and from it flowed a water that would restore a barren land into a paradise. On this image she focused and drew.

Anders started feebly as Nimue took his hand, and attempted to pull it back, but couldn't deny that whatever she was doing was making him feel better.

His eyes began to droop heavily as he saw the vision that she was hauling her strength from. The fountain. Slowly, his brow furrowed. "I...know this place," he whispered, his hand tightening on Nimue's own. "I've...been here..."

For an instant, all the dark shadows that had haunted him for so long were chased away by the simple beauty of the scene. His laboured breathing grew easier, and, letting his eyes close, Anders drifted gently into the first dream-free sleep he had had for the better part of a year.

He didn't let go of Nimue's hand.

This remark was of great interest in Nimue but this wasn't the time to pursue it. She had known about this inner place for years and had visited it in her imagination in order to find peace. It was a retreat for her and she was shocked at Anders words. It was a strange feeling that he also would know of it. Maybe...there was more to this than it seemed but this was no time to pursue that line of thinking either.

She remained there sitting as correctly as she could in the circumstances hoping against hope that whoever came back into the room did so quietly without waking the Professor.

More time passed than she could have hoped for before the door finally opened.

Professor Snape was not one for making dramatic or forceful entry. Therefore, he opened the door quietly and took in the scene in front of him.

Nimue was sitting quietly by Professor Grimalkin her eyes focused now upon Professor Snape. There was no sense of impropriety in her holding of Anders Grimalkin's hand. It was that of a healer and whatever she had done, the young Professor had obviously fallen into a deep sleep.

Snape came over to where she was sitting and parted their hands. He helped her to rise and escorted her to the door.

"I will stay with him for a time. I suggest you prevent any one from entering, especially young Falconer who will no doubt be rushing about at breakneck speed trying to fix things. Go...."

Anders Grimalkin was not going to be too pleased to see the Potions Master instead of his young nurse but that was too bad. Snape was irritated by the young man's inability to seemingly remain out of trouble for five minutes but he wouldn't take advantage of him while he was ill. His own encounter with the Dementors had marked Snape and he wondered whether any crime deserved their attention.

Nimue was grateful again to the Potions Master for not making a fuss about her being found holding the hand of the young Professor as well as for his being kind rather than curt to Anders. Snape might be something of a terror but sometimes he could surprise people. She knew that already and now maybe Anders would feel differently when he realised it.

Snape would probably have something to say about the matter later about what was and was not proper. Still that was nothing next to what Marcus would have assumed and the lecture or worse that might have followed.

Inevitably, of course, Anders' body began to complain about the position he was sleeping in, and the stiff neck was what woke him more than anything else. As Snape's face gradually swam into focus, Anders mumbled something incoherent, then tried to sit up straighter. His body felt as though it were made of lead.

"Professor..." he said, slowly and painfully through dry lips. "I'm sorry for falling asleep here...if you can just guide me to my room..I'll be out of your way..."

Despite the fact that to all intents and purposes, Anders was no longer obliged to defer to Snape, now that they were colleagues, he retained all the awe and fear he had of the Potions Master that had dogged him as a boy.

The feeling of complete sickness had passed, and Anders was now simply exhausted. He rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, making them redder than they were already, and blinked at Snape, who remained silent, staring at him - no, *through* him - with that icy stare he remembered so very well.

Snape said nothing, simply gave Grimalkin a very cool, calculating look. He got to his feet and walked to the door. Looking out, he spoke to Nimue.

"You are excused now, Miss Hawkwood. Please go and assure Mr Falconer that Professor Grimalkin will be fine."

Without waiting for a reply, Snape closed the door again and turned back to the other Professor. He eyed him contemplatively for a few moments, then walked across to him, sitting down in a chair opposite.

"This goes against every grain of dislike I have for you, *Professor*," he said, bitter sarcasm in the word, "but I do not wish to see a colleague suffer. I have, in my office, a superb Restorative Potion that I think will be of some relief to you." He did not wait for Grimalkin to comment, but held up his hand.

"However, before I consider fetching this potion, I would like to take the opportunity to discuss a couple of matters with you. And one of those matters is concerning Miss Hawkwood." He watched the DADA Professor intently, waiting for his reaction.

Anders swallowed nervously. "M..m..miss Hawkwood? Nimue?" Their eyes met with an almost resounding clash.

Snape didn't seem forthcoming with any further information, so Anders was silent and chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment. Finally, very softly, he said, "I think I know where you're taking this conversation, Professor Snape...and although I don't imagine for one minute that you will either believe...or be interested in what I have to say...I have to say it anyway. I like Miss Hawkwood. She is a very sweet young girl. But it goes no further than that."

For a moment, something proud sprang into Anders' spine and he met Snape's cool gaze with one of his own. "I know what you think of me, always HAVE thought of me. But I have far too much at stake to lose my head."

The pride sapped out of him again and he sank back into the chair. "Why DON'T you like me, Professor Snape? What was it I did that made you hate me so much - even as a kid?"

Snape gave Grimalkin a scornful look as he strenuously denied any impropriety with Nimue, but for now seemed mollified. "So you understand," he said. "For a student to have a crush on a teacher especially one as *young* as you..." His words were sharp and directed straight for Grimalkin's ego, "...is not unusual. I trust you understand that."

The young DADA Professor looked a bit bemused by this, so Snape carried on with his other comment. "Why don't I like you, Grimalkin. Ah, now there's the question. Where, exactly, would you like me to start? The fact that you were convicted for murder? The fact that against recommendation, Albus Dumbledore allowed you to take up the DADA post? Or shall we take it back a little further and remember what you were like as a student? The petty little displays of temper over tiny little things. The fact that you would never learn to understand what 'no' meant."

The Potions Master tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Take your pick, Grimalkin. Whichever one you choose is bound to be correct."

Anders' face coloured as Snape fired the accusations at him one after another. He immediately felt the need to defend himself against the charges as he had done the first day he'd found himself a captive in...That Place. Pushing himself forward, his blue eyes took on a dangerous expression.

"I was given a verdict of not guilty, Professor," he said, in a low voice. "In case you don't keep up with the news. It was an ACCIDENT." A spark flared in his eyes as he carried on. "And you're still hungering after the DADA job yourself, are you? Have you ever thought that maybe Dumbledore simply doesn't trust you in that sort of job?"

He continued, angry now, heedless of the impression this must be creating. "You ever been in a position where you had to defend that which you most believed in, Professor? Those 'little displays of temper' you're referring to were as a result of endless bullying and taunting that you - my own House Master - turned your back on. I don't for one moment expect you to understand something as honourable as that."

He began to lose conviction as another wave of coughing swept over him. Exhausted by his passion and his illness, he sank back down. "I can't fight with you over this..." he began, and then slow remembrance dawned. "That's what this is about isn't it? That Duelling class...you've never forgiven me for beating you, have you?"

He glowered at the other Professor, daring him to deny it.

Snape was taken aback. Of all the things he had least expected Grimalkin to remember, that Duelling class in the boy's last term was it.

Leaning forward himself until his face was just inches from Grimalkin's he hissed, "Yes, Grimalkin, you're right. That does sting. Because it wasn't me who cheated, was it?"

With that, the Potions Master got to his feet. "I will get you that potion now, Grimalkin. And I want you to heed everything that has been discussed within these four walls. I have my eye very closely on you. And if I catch you putting so much as one toe out of line...then you can rest assured that you will be on the first transport back to Azkaban."

Snape allowed himself a moment's satisfaction to see how the Professor reacted to the word, then turned and stalked to the door, his robes billowing behind him like some avenging angel. He turned as he reached the door.

"Wait here. I will return with the potion and then, when you feel able, will accompany you to your room."

Anders' jaw dropped as Snape exited the room. Cheated? How DARE he suggest that? The old grouch was just sore because Anders, who Snape had deliberately picked out at 'random' to demonstrate a duelling technique on, had countered the curse the Slytherin House Master with one of his own - admittedly one that he wasn't supposed to have learned - but...all was fair in...war and Snape.

He let the matter simmer back down to the bottom of his mental stewpot, and mulled over what Snape had said. He didn't doubt for one second that he would be true to his word. Anders pulled at a lock of black hair that had fallen into his face and chewed the ends of it thoughtfully. He was going to have to tread VERY carefully, it seemed.

Another flush of fever crept up on him, and he pulled out the flask that contained the simple herb potion that eased his symptoms, taking a sip of it. It smelled foul, and tasted worse - but you had to make sacrifices.

He got to his feet, with much difficulty, and attempted to walk to the window in an effort to stretch the cramped muscles in his legs, but he could barely walk. He raged inwardly at himself. He was 23 years old and was acting like a man of 80. Curse everything about That Place! Curse his own physical shortcomings! Curse his emotions! And curse Snape!

Anders leaned on the back of the chair and breathed heavily, his hands shaking and his legs refusing to cooperate with his wishes. His anger began to subside and he was left feeling very pitiful and small. He had to wait for Snape. He couldn't make his own way anywhere, and the knowledge that Snape would absorb no small amount of satisfaction from that fact was biting at him like a mosquito he couldn't swat.

He stood where he was, helpless and as weak as a day-old kitten, waiting for his nemesis - and his saviour - to return. The paradox was a bitter one.

**************

Professor McGonagall was on her way to dinner. She was hoping to be able to get a quick bite before she had to sort out the WiBs who had been 'demanding that she do something' for the last half-hour in her office. She felt exhausted from their rantings, especially as the boy they had gone to question had got away.

However, before she got there she found a little gathering in the corridor. She recognised 2 of the students from her class earlier in the day, but the other one... no, she had not seen him before. Maybe this was the one the WiBs had been complaining about.

"Madison, Niki, before you try anything you can explain what has been going on here." She requested authoritatively. The two girls explained what they had seen.

"Ummm. So you are Asriel are you? I've been looking for you." She mumbled.

"Ok, you two go and get your dinner. I will deal with Asriel." She dismissed the girls and they fled.

"You will come with me." She headed for the last place that she knew Snape had gone. The corridors were quiet and she opened the door to find only Anders.

"Ah. Hello Anders. Is Snape coming back? I need his help with this one." She indicated the student that she was propelling to a seat where she could put him.

Anders was so relieved to see someone other than Snape that he could have cried. "Yes," he said in a faint voice. "He's gone to fetch a Restorative Potion for me and he was going to help me back to my room." His head swivelled to follow her indication and he saw the boy who had stopped him earlier outside. At least he thought it was, he was feeling so confused.

"Is he OK?" he asked, genuine concern momentarily overriding his own self-absorption. He went to take a step towards them, but then remembered he couldn't walk properly right now and gripped the back of the chair again.

The boy shivered. He was pale. His lips were blue from the coldness he had within him. He opened his mouth and tried to speak.

"T...T...Ta...Take!" he said in a whisper. "Take o...o...off th..the am..amulet. Take...it off..."

"NO!" he screamed startling everyone. Pure hatred stared at each and every one of them. "Don't you come...near me," he said.

He was breathing hard. His lips curled. Seeing this poor boy talk made you want to cry. Two people, one body. Each wanting their life back. Why was this happening?

There was a look of desperation on his face. A look of innocence. The innocent boy was back. Even with all this commotion, everyone knew that the only person he was trying to talk to was Anders Grimalkin.

Anders stared at the boy in complete confusion. Why was he demonstrating such fear towards him? A pang of fear welled up in him. Was there something going on here that he had missed?

He turned pleading, bewildered eyes on Professor McGonagall and found himself, for the first time since he'd known Snape, wishing that the Potions Master would appear and take him away from this bizarre scenario.

"Well, he is in a better state than you look. As Snape is coming back we will wait for him."

The professor sighed. "And yes, *Asriel* I know. You can stop panicking in there. I just have to wait for Snape to give me a hand. I can hardly borrow Anders in this state."

She turned back to Anders. "A slight transfiguration problem. I don't want to say more just yet. Just in case."

A few minutes later Professor Snape returned to the room the restorative potion in one hand and looking as though he were ready to go another round with Anders. However, taking in the scene with Asriel and Professor McGonagall his immediate words were: "I take it, Professor, we have another crises?"

Professor Snape looked positively sour-faced at the prospect of another interruption to his evening routine. However, while waiting for Professor McGonagall to reply to his query about the boy he crossed to the seated Anders and handed him the Restorative Potion.

"I trust this will be of some use in assisting with your return to full health Professor. Should you run low I will have no problem in providing further supplies. However, it would be appreciated if any future visits to my office were confined to periods when I am in attendance."

He leaned closer so that he could study Anders' response. "Do we have an understanding on that particular point, Professor?"

Anders took the potion gratefully from Snape, and murmured his thanks. Unstopping the glass bottle, he downed the potion in one. It was almost as disgusting as his own cough medicine, and he grimaced.

When Snape asked his question, Anders understood immediately what he was saying. "I...understand, Professor," he said, through the haze of tiredness that now assailed him. "I understand perfectly."

He glanced across at McGonagall and the boy. "I am sorry, Professor McGonagall...I must retire to my room if I am to stand any chance of commencing work tomorrow. Please...excuse me."

Almost in defiance, he tried to walk towards the door unaided, but managed no more than three or four steps before his knees began to fold underneath him. He halted and stood, rigid, staring directly ahead before sighing heavily. This was going to make Snape very happy.

"Could I trouble you for your assistance one more time this evening, Professor Snape?"

Snape looked torn between annoyance at having to assist Anders again and vague relief at being able to escape the teacher's lounge and the other brewing crises.

"Professor McGonagall, please do excuse me for the few minutes it will take me to escort this ... our colleague to his quarters. Apparently his first day has been so 'full' that he hadn't time to locate his rooms and my assistance is needed once more. I shall return."

He turned to Anders: "I take it you need physical assistance?"

Anders snapped at Professor Snape. He couldn't help it. "You don't have to enjoy this QUITE so much, Professor. If you don't wish to assist me, then I'll just make my own way to...to...wherever it is I have to go."

Pride, stupid, male pride. He was cutting off his nose to spite his face, and he knew it. On top of which, he was letting his temper get the better of him - just what Snape wanted to see. He immediately shook his head.

"I apologise. I am tired and unwell, see. Forgive my bad manners. Please, Professor Snape, your assistance would be...would be..." He looked at Snape, venom in his glance. "...greatly appreciated." Snape had won this round, it seemed.

Professor Snape smiled somewhat ruefully at the young Professor emphasising to Professor McGonagall his express concern for their young colleague:

"Nonsense Professor, I am not enjoying your predicament in the slightest. We do have standards at Hogwarts and I would be failing in my duty if I did not see you safely to your quarters. In this state heaven knows what our little charges might think of their new DADA instructor should you collapse in the corridor on your first day."

With this he offered his arm and shoulder for the young teacher's support. In the battle of wills the score looked Snape 2, Anders 0.

~Yeah, yeah, and I'm the Queen of Spain~, thought poor Anders sarcastically, although he didn't voice his thoughts. He could tell from the disapproving way McGonagall was looking at him that he'd gone too far already. She made a mumbled comment that Anders neither heard nor wanted to hear but which sounded suspiciously like 'men and their little games.'

He took Snape's arm and, with the other Professor's guidance, managed to walk a few steps at a time. He hated this. He could hear the Professor laughing at him from somewhere within the confines of his oily head.

Finally, they entered the teacher's wing, and Snape left him propped up against the wall next to the door he was informed had been the entrance to the last DADA Professor's room. Anders was further informed that he should have a 'good long think before he did anything else stupid', and Snape was gone.

Anders leaned against the wall in a somewhat idiotic pose for a few minutes, then painfully and slowly, dragged himself into the room. It was dark, and cold and unwelcoming, but he'd spent eight months in a tiny cell. It was like a palace.

He managed to get to the sink and splash some cold water on his face, which served to make him feel a little better. He dragged off his shabby blue robes and, in his T-shirt and jeans that he wore beneath, crawled into the bed.

As his eyes, heavy with sleep, closed, his last thoughts were of a calming, beautiful fountain, filling his soul with peace and serenity, harmony and tranquillity. Anders had no bad dreams that night.