Chapter I

Parejo's inexplicable death had created a serious problem for the Ministry, for the Daily Prophet had insinuated that Maverick could have "exceeded his mandate" and caused Parejo's death. So there was Harry, working on his first major case since he had started as an Auror, seven months ago. The Ministry had to clean up its act, and Robards had assigned Harry this task.

Harry felt both proud and concerned: now he had a great responsibility on his shoulders. During two weeks, he researched the Schola Obscura in all the libraries of the Wizarding World. Long days spent poring over books produced little result: references to the subject were scarce.

There was a mention of the Schola Obscura in a biography of Michael Scot, a famous wizard who had worked in the court of Frederick II of Sicily, the Crimson King, in the beginning of the 13th century. According to this biography, Scot had learned all he knew in the Schola Obscura, in the cave of Salamanca. Other references came from history books, which mentioned medieval legends of dark angels who taught their secrets in the cave of Salamanca, in Spain. Other versions said the devil himself, incarnated in a certain Marquis of Villena, was the teacher.

Harry sent a group of Aurors to the place known as la Cueva de Salamanca, or the Cave of Salamanca. The team returned from Spain with the bad news that the place was closed to visitors. Harry knew the cave had been sealed by the Catholic Monarchs, Isabel and Fernando, in the 16th century, but he had never imagined it could still be closed. Annoyed but determined, Harry sent a second team with instructions to be as inconspicuous as possible, but not to return without having entered the Cave. The second team came back and reported that the Cave was actually not a cave at all, but the crypt of a ruined church, and that they hadn't found anything suspicious there. No one had found any sign of the elusive Schola Obscura.

Harry was contemplating the idea of spending a few days in Salamanca to investigate when Remus, who had come to the Ministry to fetch Tonks, approached his desk.

"Can I give you a piece of advice regarding your first big case?"

"Of course, Remus!"

"We both know a wizard who knows the history and the secrets of the Dark Arts more than anyone. I wouldn't go to Salamanca without talking to him first. I know he's not easy, Harry, but he helped us to defeat Voldemort. Perhaps you can convince him to help you. Go and talk to him. He makes the Wolfsbane for me every month. He charges for it, it's truth, but he charges less than the other few who can make the potion. It's a complex potion and demands a lot of time and effort."

"He charges you? What a bastard."

"He barely survives by selling his potions. Severus was cleared for lack of evidence, but the Wizarding World will never forgive him. He's a branded man."

"I did him a great service by not testifying against him in court. If I had gone and told what I had seen, he'd've been convicted. He's reaping what he sowed."

"You're still full of hate against him. Don't forget that, without him, we wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort."

"I know that, and that makes me hate him even more. He may well have killed Dumbledore at Dumbledore's request, but he's still responsible for Sirius's and my parents' deaths."

"Harry... Things are not as simple as they look. We need to talk one day, when we both have time. Now I must go: Nymphadora's tired. She shouldn't be working still. She's in her seventh month."

"Oh, she's fine, Remus. Don't worry."

Harry tried to reassure Remus, but he knew one of the consequences of the War was the fear of losing the beloved ones. Harry still hadn't entirely come to terms with the tragic loss of Ginny. He felt guilty, because Ginny - like Harry's mother, when he was a baby - had put herself in front of Harry when Voldemort had cast the Killing Curse on him. That moment had been indelibly imprinted in Harry's soul. He had defeated Voldemort, but only due to Ginny's sacrifice.

His friends had also helped him a lot. His friends and his nemesis... Without Snape, Harry wouldn't have managed to destroy all the Horcruxes - Harry acknowledged that. However, that wasn't enough to make him stop loathing Snape. It would be extremely distressing for Harry to go and ask for his help.

Harry procrastinated for three days, telling himself it wouldn't work, that Snape would never agree to help him. But on the fourth day, as Robards started showing signs of impatience with the lack of results, Harry's professional conscience finally got the best of him.

Harry Apparated at the end of a sombre street, over which a tall chimney hovered like an dark, ominous obelisk. The street was flanked by rows and rows of dilapidated brick houses, their windows broken or boarded up. He felt thankful for having decided to go there in the afternoon, during his working hours - at night, that street would be even eerier.

A gust of wind brought the unpleasant smell of the putrid river to Harry.

So that was Spinner's End, and that last house, similar to all the others in its abandoned state, was where Snape lived.

Gathering all his Gryffindor courage, Harry knocked on the door and waited.

And waited.

He knocked again, harder.

Nothing.

Very well, he thought. If that's what you want, that's what you'll get.

Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the door. But before he could cast any spell, he heard another wizard shouting, "Expelliarmus!"

Harry's wand was thrown away and fell on the pavement. Harry glared daggers at Snape, who was watching him through the window with his unreadable look. Harry sighed and summoned his wand. "Accio wand."

"Expelliarmus!"

The wand hesitated in the air for more than a second, fluttered and then fell again on the ground, this time closer to Harry.

"Listen," hissed Harry, "I didn't come here to play with you. I'm an Auror now and..."

"I am impressed, Potter. I would be trembling in my dragon-hide boots, if I had any. Kindly remove yourself from my door, or I may have a breakdown... That would surely further complicate the situation for your dear Ministry."

"Very funny, Snape, but I can arrest you for obstructing an Auror in his duties."

Snape flashed a sardonic smile. "In theory. In practice, this is something that remains to be seen."

Harry bit his lower lip. Things weren't going well, considering he was there to ask Snape a favour. "I just want to talk. Is this your hospitality?"

"Did you expect me to watch passively while you broke into my house?"

"Why didn't you open the door?"

"I was busy."

"Okay, but now you're here. Why don't you let me in, so that I can explain why I'm here?"

"I am not interested."

"Well, I won't go until you listen to me."

Snape narrowed his eyes and aimed his wand at Harry. "Don't be stupid. You are unarmed."

"What're you going to do, kill me?"

Harry's heart beat faster. Snape might as well cast an Unforgivable on him.

Snape made an impatient face. "You haven't changed. You are still the same stubborn, reckless boy. Come on in. The door is open."

Harry was going to summon his wand, but Snape had already done it in his place, and was now flipping it back and forth between two fingers.

Damn greasy bat. If Harry didn't need his help, he wouldn't have risked himself that way. And now he was feeling more vulnerable than ever: in the home of his nemesis and unarmed.

Harry's optimistic side insisted he had achieved his aim: he was entering Snape's house. However, that didn't seem a victory worth celebrating.

Harry carefully opened the door and stepped directly into a tiny sitting room. The walls were covered in old books. Everything there looked old: the sofa, the armchair, the table, and the candle-filled lamp that hung from the ceiling.

"Spit it out," snapped Snape.

"Aren't you going to invite me to sit?"

"Do you dare question my politeness, after practically breaking into my house?"

"Politeness? God forbid that I should expect that from you!"

"Potter, you want to be careful. I do not take cheek from anyone."

Harry took a deep breath. He would have to be diplomatic. "All right. It's not just a question of politeness, you know. I've a long story to tell, and you will be more comfortable if you sit."

"By all means, if you want to sit down, do it, and stop beating around the bush. I have work to do. I am not a government official, living at the expense of the citizens."

Harry pretended to ignore the insult and carefully lowered himself onto the sofa, fearing it might crumble beneath him. Snape sat in the armchair facing the rickety sofa.

"I'll get straight to the point, to spare your precious time," Harry swallowed hard, in the hope that, if he did his best, he might swallow his pride. "In fact, I came on behalf of the Ministry."

Snape flipped Harry's wand in the air, with a triumphant look. "Well, well. This is getting better and better."

Harry forced himself to ignore the provocation. "I suppose you've read about Alfonso Parejo's death in the Daily Prophet."

"Tsk, tsk. Apparently one of your fellow Aurors committed a faux-pas. What is his name again? Maverick?"

"Parejo was bewitching people and taking advantage from them."

"What kind of spell was he using? Perhaps the Imperius Curse?"

"It was a kind of hypnotising spell. The victims didn't realise they were under a spell."

"How interesting."

"Maverick interrogated Parejo, and he said he was part of a certain Schola Obscura."

Snape straightened up in the armchair, clearly interested. "Really? And... what else did he say?"

"Nothing else! When Maverick tried to extract more from him, Parejo fell dead to the ground."

"In all likelihood, he had made an Unbreakable Vow not to reveal the location of the headquarters of the organisation."

"Do you know this organisation?"

"Potter, what do you want from me?" countered Snape.

"I've been researching for two weeks, and all I could find was that there was a Schola Obscura in a cave in Salamanca in the Middle Ages, and that Michael Scot learned dark magic there, from dark angels who came from the realm of the dead. I sent two teams to the cave, which is nothing but the crypt of a ruined church, and they came back saying they hadn't found any sign of the Schola Obscura. I thought that maybe you, as an expert on Dark Arts, could help me to solve this mystery."

Snape's lips curled in a sardonic smile. "Of all the Aurors in the Ministry, they chose to send you to ask my help?"

"Er, no, it's not like that. I was assigned the case, and decided to come."

"Ah. They assigned you the case! How long have you been working in the Ministry? Six months?"

"Seven and a half."

"I regret to tell you that your superiors are not only incompetent, but insane. Or perhaps they believe the Boy-Who-Lived to have special powers. Don't they realise the danger involved in this case? A group of dark wizards in communication with the dead?"

"Look, it's no use telling me that. I know very..."

Snape interrupted him. "I know why they chose you! They think that you, with your popularity, can earn people's trust and clear up the Ministry's act."

"I don't care. I want to solve the case. Will you help me or not?"

"You probably think I should be thankful to you for your absence at my trial. I have never understood your absence, but I am sure my well-being was never a concern for you."

Harry tried to remember why he hadn't gone. The truth was that, at that moment, Ginny's death had made him lose interest in the Wizarding World and its problems. For three months, he had wallowed in despair and depression. "That has nothing to do with the case. I'm not asking you a personal favour."

"I owe nothing to the Ministry. Perhaps you think I should be grateful for not being in Azkaban now? That's not how I see the situation at all. They took me to trial, exposed me to public humiliation, revoked my teaching licence, and reduced me to pariah status."

Harry couldn't say he was surprised; he didn't expect anything different from Snape. The selfish git could only see his side of the issue. Harry would have to bargain. "If you help me and solve the case... I may try and get you... with my influence... the Order of Merlin."

"Ah! The Order of Merlin. First class: I wouldn't settle for less. I am very moved," said Snape, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Then he stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "So... You need my help. The Ministry needs my help! I have nothing to lose. I will solve this case for you. And when I receive this medal, I will spit on it, in front of all the politicians and the press."

Harry frowned. Then he shrugged. "If that's what you want to do..."

"I will help you, but under one condition."

"Name it," said Harry, bracing himself for the worst.

"You will be under my command."

"But... What're you planning to do? I must know."

"We will go to the Cueva and inspect the place. You will be under my orders."

"Why?"

"The answer is simple, Potter: I don't trust you."

It wasn't a surprise, but it was never pleasant to hear such words, not even from the person Harry most loathed in the world. "The feeling is mutual," snapped Harry, between clenched teeth.

"Very well. The idea of being financed by the Ministry displeases me immensely, but we will have to spend at least two days in Salamanca, and I cannot afford a hotel."

"I'll talk to Robards. They will pay the hotel."

"So everything is settled. Reserve two rooms in a hotel and come back here the day after tomorrow, at the same hour."

"Er... Can I have my wand back?"

"I will be forgiving... this time," said Snape, handing Harry his wand.

Harry wasn't happy at all. That was a partnership doomed to failure. Obviously Harry wasn't going to abide by the agreement. He had agreed to obey Snape's orders just to convince Snape to help him. But if Snape wanted Harry to do something Harry didn't want to do... then it simply wasn't going to happen.

The problem was that Harry didn't have any alternatives. Robards, who was becoming more and more impatient, cheered when Harry announced he was going to Salamanca.

An unexpected problem occurred when Harry tried to reserve a hotel room in Salamanca: all hotels were booked, because the previous week had been the Easter holiday and next Monday they would have a local holiday, the "Lunes de Aguas". Tonks suggested him to try the hotels of some of the villages near Salamanca. After three more attempts, Harry found a room (and just one!) in an inn in the small village of San Isidro, just five kilometres from Salamanca, by the river Tormes.

On Friday afternoon, Harry tucked a pair of pyjamas, a T-shirt, three pairs of underpants and three pairs of socks into his rucksack. He put on his jeans, a white T-shirt and one of Molly's jumpers over it, and finally his trainers. Then he said goodbye to Hedwig and sent her to Hermione, closed his small house in Hogsmeade and Apparated again in Spinner's End.

This time Snape opened the door immediately. Harry gaped when he saw Snape dressed as a Muggle: black velvet trousers and a high neck cardigan. Harry couldn't help admiring Snape's slender line and elegance.

Snape frowned, and Harry felt his face growing hot as he realised Snape had noticed the way Harry was staring at him.

"Are you ready?" Snape asked impatiently.

"Yeah, but I... have something to tell you."

"What is it?"

"It's just that, as they have a local holiday next Monday, all hotels are booked. I had to reserve a room in a hotel, or rather an inn, in a nearby village, about five kilometres from Salamanca."

"And why is that a problem?"

"They had just one room available."

"Ah. At the risk of being repetitive, why is that a problem?"

"Er, well, if you don't think it's a problem, it's okay."

"Did you ask for a room with two beds?"

"Of course."

"Listen, Potter, if you feel threatened by my sexual preferences, I..."

"No! I didn't know you were... I mean... are you gay?" Harry realised Snape's patience seemed to be wearing thin. This time Harry couldn't blame him. Harry knew he was handling the situation very badly. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that. There's no problem."

"So, if you are ready, we can leave now. Have you got a map of the area?"

"Yes, I have." Harry opened his rucksack and produced a map. "It's here. In San Isidro de Tormes."