Normally, the summer was a time for students and teachers to relax and prepare for the stresses of the upcoming year. It was a time for the young to play and the older ones to shed their problems, if only for a little while. This summer, however, proved quite the opposite. From the moment he no-longer had the funeral to take care of, Severus spent most of his days in bed (though little time actually sleeping). When not in his rooms, he sat beside his son for hours on end (or atop the hill, veiled by the weeping willow), trying to somehow accept the situation.

It did not take the Asps long to realize it was best (and safest) to leave him well enough alone. Then again, some of the curses he fended them off with might have helped spur their cooperation. He still met with Draco on a semi-regular basis, and the Asps almost always joined him at meals (though he did not always come, rarely feeling up to eating multiple times a day). Draco also had them patrolling the property, a few at a time, and continued training them (which Severus figured was mostly to keep the lot busy).

Hermione had, thankfully, stayed the first few weeks; her presence doing a great deal of service as far as Draco was concerned. At least this way, Severus did not need to put on the brave mask for the boy’s sake and was allowed his solitude. Still, as he made his way from the manor to the willow, petting Pazur lightly as he passed, the man could not help but wonder if the boy was truly as fine as he currently appeared… or did Draco now wear the same mask Severus tried to show in the boy’s presence?

He could hear the echoes of a distorted voice as he began descending the steps, pausing a moment to pin it with a face, though its words were lost in the reverberations. The Asps came to sit with Horris sometimes, but the feminine voice sounded older than the teen she-Asps. It took him another moment to think of the other Snapes within the chamber.

His mother… Abdicattera.

He wondered if, perhaps, it would be best to wait until she left to see his son, but Horris’ now-memorized letter kept running through his mind.

He was surprised to see her speaking to Horris and not their mother, wondering not for the first time if Horris was a far-better judge of character than anyone believed. Had he truly misjudged his own sister so much? He leaned against the entryway, strangely comforted by the sight of her gently stroking his son’s forehead as she spoke.

“…could have met her,” he caught her saying just as he cleared the passage, “She’d have simply adored you, dear, spoiled you rotten as well, I’m sure.”

Severus smiled sadly at the words, his mother would have adored her grandson… might have even survived it all a while longer had she had him to live for.

“Who would have thought it would take Severus’ son to undo the transgressions of a devil of a man who died before your birth?”

“Who indeed,” Severus agreed aloud, deeming it time to make his presence known.

“Lord Snape!” she meeped, visibly stiffening at his voice. “I… I just…”

“We missed you at the funeral, Abby,” he cut her off, hoping to ease her fears.

“I just strayed from Mother’s side a moment, I swear, I-”

“Do calm down, Abdigale,” he sighed, wondering if she was listening to what he said, or simply trying to talk her way out of the situation she thought she was in. “I would not keep Horris from his aunt.”

“But-” she paused, apparently having heard him at last, “you aren’t mad?”

“Disappointed you did not come to the funeral, but not mad, no.”
”I didn’t think you’d want me there… even when Remus extended the invitation.”

“No way to change that, Abdigale. You are here now, and are welcome whenever you wish to return.”

“He was quite fond of you,” he added after a short silence, eyes fixed on his son, “I regret he did not get to know you, as well. He did so cherish family.”

“Lord Snape, I-”

“By Merlin, Abby!” he sighed tiredly, looking at her once more., “Lord Snape died years ago, and I do not wish to be equated to him. I am sorry I did not right his wrongs earlier, but I believe it is high time you remember who your family is.”

He wondered, looking now at his boy’s calm face, if this was what Horris had envisioned when writing his letter.

“When is Randolph picking you up?” he asked, knowing the Gryffindor often collected his wife at the edge of the Snape Estate.

“He’s not, Lo-” she stopped, “Severus.”

“Will he be expecting you?”

“Not until Sunday. He’s on some mission for the Order again.”

“I see.”

It took him another few moments of silence to decide what he should do with this information. With a kiss to his son’s forehead, he pulled his attention back to Abdicattera and nodded.

“Come.”

“Come?” she echoed, even as she moved to follow, “come where?”

“Home.”

“You were serious?” she whispered in amazement, “You… you’re really-”

“I am not a man of jest, Abby,” he confirmed, his slight smirk free of malice. He would not have her stay in an empty flat for four days- not now. He did not press her to speak on their way back, though her dreamy echo of ‘home’ nagged his soul for not doing this sooner. He noticed how Sila nudged Abby’s hand to be petted on their way up the steps, and how the house elves tried to sneak peeks at her as the two last Snapes walked up the steps.

“I trust you remember the way up to your rooms?”

“I though Fa- I though He destroyed everything in them.”

“An exaggeration; you should find everything there just as you left it,” he assured her. “Besides, I see no reason for the elves to prepare another set when you already have one.”

“You’ve no idea how much this means to me,” she sighed gladly, accepting his offered arm.

Once he had led her to the rooms she had lived in as a child, Severus trekked up to his own suite, letting her get settled. An elf was ordered to make sure she was asked to join them at dinner at six, and with that he locked himself away once more. He felt far more content than he had in a while, he realized; not happy, no, but content.

Hermione looked out the panoramic window in her room, as she was wont to do. In a way, she was glad her parents had decided to finally take that ‘long-overdue trip around Europe’ they had been planning upwards of five years. It was not too difficult to convince them that she couldn’t go sight seeing only a few weeks after her best friend’s death, especially when Severus himself had asked them to let her stay at the Manor.

The view of the grounds placated her like little else could these days, and being useful was the best way for her to cope. Here, she had found a balance; enough time to herself while being needed enough so she didn’t wallow in the tragedy. Draco, seemingly, needed her more than anyone. Perhaps it was because the professor knew grief most his life, or simply preferred to deal with it alone, but it was Draco who called for her comfort the most.

Then again, Draco was also responsible for leading the Asps now, a task she knew he did not want. She had often needed to push him to perform his role, even after Horris’ attempt to get Draco used to the task. In all honesty, Draco just didn’t do well with so many lives in his hands. He would make a good leader if he overcame his insecurity… which she dearly hoped he would. He still refused to let the Asps get involved with the war in any way, though he at least took her advice and kept up their training.

“One second!!” she called to answer the knock at her door, the polite tap pulling her from her musings. “
“Take your time,” Draco’s voice called back, though she was already reaching for the handle.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he echoed,

“How are you?” she always asked as soon as she could nowadays, knowing he came seeking her aid more often than not, and would be damned if he felt he was asking too much of her.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” she pressed knowing how not alright his ‘alright’ was.

“Stressed. Worried… tired.” He finally admitted, dropping into the window seat beside her.

“Ah,” she nodded, smiling reassuringly, “Asp problems?”

“Wolf’s getting restless… as are at least half of them, actually.”

“They want to fight,” she agreed. Wolf- Dean- had thankfully stepped in as Draco’s second. Draco was lucky to have him; her old friend often knew more about the Asps than the blond did.

“He’s right, you know,” she sighed, knowing all the Asps felt the need to pay Voldemort back for the pain he had caused them. It was part of their grieving process, she had realized long ago.

“I don’t want them to fight.”

“I know, Draco,” she knew very well he didn’t- he was truly and utterly afraid of losing anyone else; especially while they were following his order.

“Best thing you can do, for now, is say you’re training them for just such a thing, and in the mean time, accept the fact that you will eventually send them into battle,” she advised, leaving ‘sometime soon’ unsaid. Voldemort had been quiet lately… extremely quiet. The few parents who’s love for their children surpassed their loyalty to the monster had been carefully letting hints slip… hints of something brewing that’d endanger the Asps regardless of their involvement in the war (or lack there of).

“The Professor’s sister is here,” Draco stated, bluntly calling an end to their previous topic as he usually did. The change this time was so sudden, however, that it too her a moment to register exactly what was said.

“Mrs. McGonagall?” she questioned, knowing Horris had once mentioned the woman as such. But… he had also said she’d been disinherited like Draco now was. For her to be here was supposed to be impossible, even if Horris had said the woman did have permission to see her mother in the catacombs.

“Apparently,” he continued, “the Professor decided to undo what his father did to her.”

“Is that possible?” Professor Snape’s father was far from a nice man, and she had read some of the ‘side effects’ purebloods could add when kicking someone out of the family. Draco got away without much more than losing his titles and vaults as his father was forced to disinherit him from afar since the blond boy was smart enough not to return home for any reason after his true alliance was proven, but-

“Not all of it, certainly. I heard some houseguests at Malfoy Manor discussing her once, and the late Lord Snape certainly made sure what he did could not be wholly undone. Still, the Professor returned her social status as Lady Snape, as far as I can tell… reinstated her in the Manor, at least. Even that is unheard of.”

“Are you sure?” she questioned, wondering why the Professor did so now, of all times.

“You should be able to see for yourself at dinner,” he nodded, “and I assume Horris had something to do with it, as far as the timing goes.”

“You think so?” she asked again, knowing very little of what was possible in pureblood households.

“I don’t see how else it would happen so suddenly. The Professor seems better for it, either way, so I see no immediate harm in letting her stay.”

“…” she knew he had left ‘I will still be keeping a few eyes on her, either way’ unsaid.

Dean interrupted them to tell Draco he was needed on the training grounds, and that Hermione declined coming along to watch. She had gone in the beginning to provide some extra support for Draco, but the training always left her feeling cold. The Asps did not train any gruesome forms or anything, but knowing the purpose these people her age served in the great scheme of things… what their training would ultimately be used for…

She gave her usual excuse (not half untrue, mind you), saying their stunts made her feel terribly out of shape, and went back to her window watching. Dinner, for once, couldn’t come soon enough.

Her rooms. Never, in a million years, did she think she’d ever step foot in this place once more. Then again, before the day she was confronted by the boy in the catacombs, she’d have said the same thing for stepping inside the Manor. Still, to stand here again. Having lived for years in their small seaside cottage, the suite appeared thrice the size she remembered from childhood. Had she truly taken all of it for granted, in all the years she had lived here; the pure luxury of the sparkling granite flooring, golden accents and antique furniture? It all felt so overwhelming now.

“Dinner, Lady Snape, will be served in ten minutes in the main dining room,” an elf announced, bowing. Now, if only she could remember how to get there. She vaguely recalled the layout of the room and that it rested on the second floor… damn. Had she really forgotten so much? She did not mind the opportunity to wander about as much as the fact her mind had failed to retain such knowledge.

Her pride kept her from calling for an elf to guide her, but when some teenaged girls passed her, she set a similar pace behind them. They had to be going to the dining room, after all.

“Abby,” Severus greeted her as she entered the room, “you decided to join us at last.”

“I’m sorry to make you wait for me.”

“Sit,” the indicated chair, vis-à-vis Severus’ head seat, startled her slightly, but she forced herself not to show how effected she was. Severus meant to really restore her full status.

She ate quietly, never contributing to the conversations some of these children had. It was odd, to have the Manor filled with so many young souls. She knew what they were, of course, though knowing and accepting proved two different things altogether. The mood was somber, certainly, but beyond that these young warriors behaved just like the hoards of other people their age at meal time. It was so difficult to remember how different they actually were… and harder still to accept Horris was their leader. Had been.

It was strange how she missed the young man, having only spoken to him briefly. By Merlin, could that boy leave an impression on someone! And to think she had missed out on all those years she could have been in his life. Poor Severus, for him, this was by far the hardest of all. She could tell he was acting as if he were far better off than he was, though she dared not confront him about it. Maybe, in time, she’d find the courage to do so. For now, she’d bide her time and be thankful for the kindness her brother had shown her.

“Do you think he has a chance?” a voice caught her attention, especially the annoyed answering ‘shush’ from the boy beside her.

“Draco knows what he’s doing. Just do your part,” was the strained answer, though Abby barely heard it.

“I can’t imagine this fooling the Professor.”
”I said shush.”

“But Blaise-”

“Drop it.” The boy, Blaise, looked right at Abby then, as if trying to discern what she’d do. Before anything else could be said, however, Severus pulled everyone’s attention with a growled ‘Draco…’

“Um, yes, sir?” was meek enough to intrigue Abby further.,

“What is the meaning of this?” Severus questioned, thrusting a letter at the blond.

“Erm…” he read it over quickly, “a letter from Headmaster Krum… . asking… asking if you could fill their potions position?”

“And?”

“And what, sir?”

“And what have you to do with this?”

The girl who had first caught Abby’s attention shrunk so close to Blaise she could have laughed.

“You are one of the top Potions Masters, sir…” Draco pointed out slowly, “and with ample teaching experience.”

“And you did teach at one of the best Wizarding schools,” another boy piped in.

“And..” it was that Blaise boy now, though the younger girl seemed shocked that he of all people would contribute, “Professor Zeskaya was pushing her retirement.”

Severus leaned back with that, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this? Do I truly look so naïve?”

“Um, no, sir…” Draco amended, “but you need to work again, away from Dumbledore and all his annoying sidekicks.”

“Draco-”

“You’re killing yourself!” the blond cut him off forcefully, pushing himself to stand. I don’t care how well you hide it, you are not alright. You need to take your mind off it, sir, and this may prove the best way to do it. You love to teach, even if you go to painful lengths to keep your students from realizing it.”

“I am in no state of mind to teach.”

“Severus?” Abby sighed, figuring she had to butt into this, after all, “could you listen to yourself?”

“Not you, too,” Severus bemoaned, leaning forward to better massage his temples.

“The boy is right, you realize?”

“Abdigale…” he growled, still leaning onto his circling fingers.

“I’m serious.”
”Abby…” he repeated, more pleadingly now.

“You need it,” she insisted. “I know you. I know what happens if you’re left to your own devices.”
”I am no longer six.”

Abby backed off at the finality in that last statement, though she was quite sure the scheme would do Severus good. Judging from the silence that filled the table, she was not the only one to hear the underlying ‘drop it’ in his final rebuttal. Apparently he had learned something from the late Lord Snape…